


Gold Isn't All

by wicked3659



Category: due South
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Angst and Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Christmas Fluff, Drama, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Intimacy, M/M, Mild Language, Period-Typical Homophobia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-17
Updated: 2020-12-17
Packaged: 2021-03-10 21:00:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 48,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28133571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wicked3659/pseuds/wicked3659
Summary: The year is 1898 and Dawson City is at the height of the Klondike gold rush.Damien Kowalski travels from America with his family up to the Klondike, in search of gold and fortune.Ray tags along reluctantly, suffering from a lack of choices and misfortune in his own life and finds that there's much more than gold to be found in the Yukon.
Relationships: Benton Fraser/Ray Kowalski, Stella Kowalski/Ray Vecchio
Comments: 49
Kudos: 30
Collections: due South Seekrit Santa 2020





	Gold Isn't All

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThisAintBC](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThisAintBC/gifts).



> Beta'd by the wonderful: [verushka70](https://archiveofourown.org/users/verushka70)  
> who worked exceedingly hard to tackle this monster, my abuses of commas and language and helped shape this into something I'm really proud of. Thank you for all your help and encouragement, I couldn't have done this without you.

**_Since 1892, American, Joseph Ladue, operated a trading post in the Yukon. In August 1896 he capitalized on the finding of gold 70km above the mouth of the Klondike at Bonanza Creek. He staked out 65 hectares of swamp and moose pasture and called it Dawson City after Canadian geologist George Mercer Dawson. He made a fortune selling lumber to the prospectors_ ** _._

_“The ghostly winter silence had given way to the great spring murmur of awakening life. This murmur arose from all the land, fraught with the joy of living.” - Jack London Call of the Wild_

****

**Yukon Territory - July 1898**

The breeze was a blessed relief from the constant muggy heat of the Yukon summer. It certainly wasn’t the temperatures of Arizona nor even a sticky Chicagoan summer but considering the sun decided not to set until shortly past midnight, the dull heat was a constant slow torture. 

The Yukon was a wild and beautiful place but four hours of twilight in which to sleep per day could really drive a man into madness, especially when he was stuck in a pair of wagons with his parents and ex-fiancee. Stanley Raymond Kowalski had come to the conclusion half way through their three month long trek that he was being punished by God for some awful transgression in a past life. 

Before the start of their journey he’d been engaged to be married to a beautiful woman one Stella Williams, a school teacher and academic -- and had had a decent respectable job as a journalist for Chicago's biggest newspaper. He’d apparently lost the job due to an economic slowdown. But he hadn't been fooled for a second. He’d upset too many big bugs in the newly developing Chicago mafia as well as high level politicians, so they had wanted him gone. In truth, Ray was fortunate to not have ended up shot to death in a dark alley somewhere or sleeping with the fishes in Lake Michigan. So he had agreed to his father’s latest insane idea: to go digging for gold in Canada.

A month later, already en route to Canada, upon finding out about his subsequent unemployment and the reasons for it, his relationship had been strained to the breaking point and his fiancee had spectacularly broken off their engagement. His cheek would forever bear the small scar where he’d been struck. It was now the only evidence Stella had ever felt anything even remotely close to passion for him. 

The rolling motion of the wagon lulled him into a state between waking and sleep. He’d read about the midnight sun, of course, but hadn’t really been prepared for the assault of perpetual light and the almost oppressive quiet of the wilds of Canada. He had lost track of time and was finding it difficult to sleep at all. 

Still, this had been their best option, to take two wagons across the Canadian wilderness with four tonnes of provisions. The other routes, while reportedly quicker, seemed fraught with impassable terrain, roaming bands of thieves, danger and death. Coming up to Canada in the first place had already endangered his life in wildly unanticipated and bizarre ways; he couldn't possibly imagine how it could get worse and hadn't wanted to invite the possibility. He'd insisted upon this route and had accepted all the complaints that decision came with.

Well, that was until Stella had broken up with him. In the middle of the Goddamned Yukon! He should have seen it coming, really. Stuck together yet not together. That was definitely worse. Ray Kowalski had come to the definitive conclusion he was just an idiot and this was what happened to idiots who made poor life choices.

At this point death seemed preferable. 

“You see that?”

His father’s voice brought him back to full consciousness and he peered at the older man who pointed ahead. 

“Civilisation, Son. I think we’re nearly there.”

Mouth twisting as he squinted, not wanting to be fooled by random huts again, Ray tugged his small telescope from his pocket and looked ahead. “It’s one of those Mounted police depots.” 

“How’d you know that?”

Ray tucked his telescope away. “It says Northwest Mounted Police on the side.” 

“Must be the city border,” his father continued, ignoring his flippant tone. “They better not give us any trouble. The police in Edmonton had no issues; I don’t see why we have to be checked again.”

“It’s just procedure, Dad.” Ray unfolded his blued steel spectacles and put them on, watching the sudden flurry of activity at the small depot as they drew closer. He saw a man in a scarlet tunic and wide brimmed hat, a serious looking rifle slung across his back, mount a horse and ride out to meet them. At least it was just one man and not the contingent they’d had to deal with in Edmonton.

The wagon shuddered to a slow stop as his father pulled the reins taut. “Jesus, this is the last thing we need.”

Removing his glasses and pocketing them, Ray glanced at his father with a frown, he had a deep dislike for policemen. “Calm down, Dad. It’s their job, we knew this was on the cards before we got into the city.” 

“Don’t tell me to calm down, Son. We’ve travelled thousands of miles to get here, we’ve lost two of our horses to that damn river we had to cross and let’s not even mention those thieves that tried to rob us.”

Ray rolled his eyes and sighed. “They’re not going to know any of that, Dad. We knew we’d be weighed before we had to go in, just let me do the talking, alright?” 

“Fine, fine, let’s get on with it,” Damian Kowalski grumbled, levelling a flat glare at the approaching uniformed man on horseback. 

“Good afternoon, gentlemen, Corporal Benton Fraser, Northwest Mounted police. Welcome to Dawson City. I presume you are prospectors wishing to stake a claim?” 

Ray flashed him a smile, “Yeah, that’s right. This is my father Damian Kowalski, I’m Stanley Raymond Kowalski, I go by Ray and behind us in the second wagon is my mother Barbara and my uh... Stella, Stella Williams.” 

The Corporal trotted over to the second wagon as it drew to a halt and Ray silently cursed his stammer over what to call Stella. The wound was still fresh and it ached to think she was no longer his wife-to-be, even if it did come with a small amount of relief. Ray doubted he could have ever lived up to Stella’s high expectations in the long run. 

He listened to the Mountie politely greet the two women. He resisted the overprotective urge to look back and make sure the man wasn’t making eyes at Stella. It wasn't that he had any right to her anymore but it didn’t stop him from feeling protective. He jumped and clutched his chest when the Corporal suddenly appeared beside him. “Jesus Christ, you could give a guy a fit sneaking up like that! How’d you manage to sneak on a horse anyhow?” 

“Practise,” the Mountie canted his head at Ray with a small amused smile. “Forgive me for startling you.”

“Nah, it’s all good,” Ray huffed a soft laugh and winked at the Mountie. “As long as you don’t make a habit of it.” 

Corporal Fraser’s mouth quirked upward at one corner in bemusement and he touched the brim of his Stetson. “Understood. If you’ll follow me, I’ll take you to the weighing house. I will have to ensure that you have enough provisions and the right equipment for prospecting.”

“Sure thing,” Ray smiled at the affable man. “Lead the way.” 

“Right you are,” The Corporal clicked gently at his horse and trotted in front of them. 

“See, told you it wouldn’t be that bad,” Ray looked at his dad, who grunted in acknowledgement as he cracked the reins and the wagon lurched forward. 

“Time yet, Son. He’s a copper and they’ll do anything to keep Americans from taking their gold, even though it was Americans that found it. Bet you there’ll be something at this weighing station, something for him to pick at and get all cutty-eyed at us for.” 

Ray shook his head and chose to ignore his father’s paranoid rambling, instead looking ahead at the straight-backed Corporal on his horse, leading them into Dawson City. It was probably exhaustion from the long journey from America but Ray had found himself immediately beguiled by the Mountie’s even friendly voice, subtle smile and those piercing blue eyes. It was likely due to him being the first friendly face they’d encountered in months. Nevertheless, Ray found himself hoping he’d be seeing the Mountie around town once they’d settled. After this godforsaken trip north to the Yukon, Ray could really use a friend. 

****

Wagons trundling into the weighing station a short while later, Ray surveyed the organised chaos of the place. They weren’t the only newcomers to arrive in Dawson, but they were the only ones who had recently come by way of the Canadian route so they had their own corner of the large warehouse.

“Constable Turnbull,” Corporal Fraser started talking to another Mountie who appeared and stood to attention beside his horse as he dismounted. “Please set up one of the weighing stations for this family and get me the appropriate registry forms.” 

“Right away, Sir.” 

Ray suppressed a chuckle as the other Mountie almost saluted and darted inside the depot; if he’d been any stiffer he would have snapped. “They all so eager to please?” he asked the Corporal as he tied up his horse. 

Corporal Fraser looked over his shoulder at Ray before looking back to the depot where Turnbull was rushing about. “Not especially.” He turned and cast a wry smile at Ray as he climbed down from his wagon. “Turnbull is, shall we say, a unique aberration. He is a capable officer nonetheless.”

“Drives you spare, huh?” 

“Spare?” 

Ray grinned. “Makes you crazy.”

“Oh.” The Corporal ducked his head sheepishly and ran his thumb across an eyebrow before removing his Stetson, revealing neatly coiffed thick black hair. He leaned closer to Ray almost conspiratorially. “He is mad as hops at times, but I will not be one to quell his enthusiasm at such a busy period. I need all the help I can get.” 

Giving the man a knowing grin, Ray glanced around the warehouse, “I bet, Corporal. This gold rush must have you worked to your bare bones.” 

Leading them over to a free weighing station, Corporal Fraser hummed his acknowledgement. “The population of Dawson when I arrived in 1896 was five hundred souls. Now, not even two years later we are approaching, if our census is correct, twenty five thousand.” 

“Shit.” Ray whistled in awe. “How does the city manage to provide?” 

“Approximately three quarters of our population are people such as yourselves, American prospectors looking for gold,” Fraser explained. “As such they are required to bring with them a year’s provisions; if they do not, they are turned away. Hence the weighing stations -- we need to ensure you have enough to survive, especially when winter arrives.” The Corporal paused with a frown, continuing with a clipped edge to his words as he fiddled with his Stetson. “Many are caught out by the Yukon winters. Too few Americans take to heart the warnings of how truly brutal they can be. We have had far too many unfortunates perish due to a lack of foresight and proper preparation.” 

Shifting uncomfortably on his feet at the obvious disapproval in the Corporal’s tone, Ray removed his flat cap and ruffled his unruly blonde hair before shoving his hands into the pockets of his overalls. “You don’t much like us Yanks coming up here do you?” 

Corporal Fraser pinned him with a bright eyed gaze, surprise flickering across his face. “I… it’s not that I dislike Americans of course--”

“--Just would rather we didn’t come up here in hoards taking over your towns and cities, dirtying up your land digging up your gold, and dying alone in the cold, right?” 

Tilting his head curiously at Ray, the Corporal regarded him with narrowed eyes. “You are an astute man, Ray Kowalski.” 

Giving a nonchalant shrug, Ray showed the Mountie a diffident grin. “I’m detail oriented and I used to write for a newspaper, so I got good at noticing what people don’t say in between all their words.” 

Eyes widening at the revelation, Corporal Fraser broke into a real smile that seemed to light up his whole face. “You’re a writer?”

“Yeah, or rather I was.” 

“You’re not a prospector?” 

“My dad is. I agreed to help him when I lost my job.”

“Ah.”

“Corporal Fraser, Sir!” Constable Turnbull appeared as if from nowhere, cutting short their conversation, much to Ray’s disappointment. He held up the relevant forms. “I found the forms -- shall I start weighing inventory?” 

“Yes, Constable, thank you kindly.” Corporal Fraser looked back at Ray. “It’s been a pleasure, but I must report back to our main depot within the city. Constable Turnbull will help you weigh your things and find a plot.” 

“Ray! Are you going to do any actual work or are we staying in this hovel for the night?” Stella’s voice cut through the air like a knife and Ray flinched, noticing the hardening of Corporal Fraser’s face at her harsh tone. 

“Yeah, Stella, was just discussing affairs with Corporal Fraser here,” he looked down at his feet as he felt the disapproval radiating off her. 

“My apologies, Ma’am, I’m afraid I was the cause of Ray’s distraction. Ray, if you are still interested in writing, then it is my duty to inform you that Dawson City has its own newspaper. You might want to look into it.” The Mountie donned his hat once more.

Ray looked up at him in surprise and couldn’t help but smile at him gratefully when their eyes met. “Uh, thanks, Corporal.” 

“Please call me Fraser or Benton.” Fraser gave him a brief warm smile in return. “I wish you both a pleasant stay here. Please come find me at the central depot if you are in need of anything.” He tipped his Stetson politely at Stella and smiled plainly at her. “Ma’am.” Then he turned on his heel and disappeared amidst the throng of people in the warehouse. 

“He’s pleasant.” Stella watched him leave with a smile. “Perhaps I should ask him to show me around town.”

Pursing his lips, Ray gave her a withering look. “Jesus, Stella maybe wait a day before sizing up the first attractive man we meet.” He closed his eyes and turned away from her with a rush of guilt and no small amount of fear, willing her to not pick up on his slip up regarding the Corporal being attractive.

Stella shot him a scathing look. “Really, Ray, jealousy does not become you. My intentions are perfectly innocent -- as well you know. I have no designs on his person no matter how physically appealing it may appear to be. Not that that would be any business of yours any longer.”

That stung. “Oh yeah, I forgot, you need to find out how much he brings home every week first.” Ray stalked off towards the back of the wagon, ignoring Stella’s indignant protest. He didn’t have the energy to get into an argument with Stella about her ambitions. It wasn’t like he could blame her really. What did he really have to offer a classy lady like Stella?

“You know, Stanley, you don’t have to be so antagonistic. Stella has every reason to be upset. She thought you were still employed when we started this trip; now she feels trapped out here. It’s a hard path for a young woman as it is when her man doesn’t have the means to take care of her. She gave up a good job of her own to follow you and she’s just scared, Son. Try to understand, my love.” 

Ray looked away, feeling the cold slither of self loathing coiling in his gut as his mother patted his cheek affectionately. “I’m sorry, Mom, I’ll do better. I’ll get a job and do right by her, I promise.” 

“I know you will, Dear. Now, help your father and that nice constable unload the wagons.” 

****

It felt like they had been in the warehouse for days before they had finally finished weighing their provisions and Constable Turnbull had taken them out to claim a plot. The man had all the exuberant energy of a child and Ray found him simultaneously entertaining and exhausting. Still, once he got the man talking about Dawson, Ray had learned a lot; and if that included discovering casual information about a certain Corporal well that was just good fortune.

"So how many of you Mounties are there here in Dawson?" 

"We are one of 33 outposts in the Yukon under the direction of Superintendent Sam Steele. He's based at the headquarters of the Northwest Mounted Police which is actually here in Dawson City. On the other side of the city now," Turnbull grinned. "Which, I'm sure you can imagine, is quite far, considering the growth of population here. At this depot as we're almost on the outskirts of the city, we have a relatively small contingent. So we have support from the other outposts should we need them, but that doesn't happen very often." 

Turnbull explained cheerfully, gently coaxing the horses pulling Ray's wagons to a hut beside a small building. "On this side of the city there is myself and Constables Mackenzie, Tremblay and Callum. Second in command of the depot is Corporal Fraser whom you have met," Turnbull flashed a smile at Ray. "Our superior officer is Inspector Frobisher. He was a friend of the Corporal’s father, and requested Corporal Fraser transfer here personally after all that nasty business up north." 

Ray blinked at that. "What nasty business?" 

Slapping his hand over his mouth, Turnbull shook his head. "Oh dear, I have said too much. It is not my place, Sir, please understand." 

"Sure, no problem." Ray didn't know what to do with that information but he filed it away silently for future reference. Being in Dawson was apparently not where Corporal Fraser wanted to be and the man had been involved in some kind of scandal which Ray found both interesting and a little difficult to believe. Though, he had learned that appearances, even polite good looking ones, could be deceiving. “Do you like being a Mountie?” he changed tack cheerfully and the good constable looked like he was going to melt in relief. 

“Oh yes, it is extremely gratifying and I work for commendable superior officers. Corporal Fraser is a very nice man if a little what can only be described as stoic and Inspector Frobisher is quite magnanimous, though he can be a tad more on the odd side shall we say,” he winked at Ray knowingly at which Ray just flashed him a grin, having no idea what the man’s definition of odd could possibly be. He wasn’t exactly what Ray would call normal. “I am quite fortunate to work with such a disciplined strong team, especially at this busy time but we manage quite effectively. We are considered one of the safer prospecting towns. Much better than Skagway at the very least, that place has certainly gone to the dogs.”

“Yeah, I heard that, it’s run by some gang now. Leader goes by the name of Soapy Smith. I wrote an editorial on him in early '97 when the gold rush was big news.” Ray squirmed when he noticed Turnbull staring at him in awe. “What?”

“You’re S.R.Kowalski, you wrote about the Klondike and the lawlessness in Skagway. You wrote for the Chicago tribune!” he uttered excitedly.

Rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, Ray let out a short laugh. “Uh, yeah, that’s me and I did, how’d you know?”

Turnbull grinned brightly, “Our local newspaper occasionally does reprints of articles that mention the Klondike, the gold rush and our neighbouring cities. Your article was riveting and it helped boost Dawson’s appeal back when we were just a few huts in a swamp.” 

Nodding in mild incredulity that his work had made it all the way up here, Ray couldn’t help but smile. “That’s good right, more work for everyone, boost the economy?”

“Oh yes, for the most part it has been a very profitable time for the city. Very exciting!” Turnbull enthused. “I’m quite pleased to have met you Mr. Kowalski, I have never met a published writer from such a big newspaper. I still have the article, would you sign it for me?” 

Staring open-mouthed at the unexpected request, Ray shrugged. “Sure, I guess.” 

“Oh thank you, Mr. Kowalski! I can’t wait to show the other Constables.”

Ducking his head shyly, Ray ran a hand through his hair which was in dire need of a wash. “Just Ray. Mr. Kowalski is my father.”

Turnbull gave him a dazzling smile. “Of course, right you are, _Ray_. I think we’re going to be good friends.” The constable jumped down from the wagon and tied up the horses. “Right, let’s get you set up.”

Ray looked around at the plot and then around at the neighbouring ones. Some of them were temporary huts like the one they had paid for by the looks of things but many were just large white tents with people everywhere. He jumped down to help Turnbull set up their assigned hut and gather their belongings. “The Corporal mentioned how many people you got here now, that’s got to be tough to manage with only what six or seven of you here?” Ray couldn’t really explain his interest in the Mounties and indirectly Corporal Fraser. The man, while being a delicious feast for the eyes, had an enigmatic air about him that had ignited his innate curiosity; and the Mounties themselves were a somewhat different breed of law enforcement than he was used to dealing with in America. How they managed to maintain law and order in a place like Dawson was a testament to them and Ray wanted to know more.

“It would have been more difficult if Inspector Frobisher and Corporal Fraser were not stationed here from the beginning. They’ve been here since 1896 and tolerate no shirking of the law. Any malfeasants are soon sent packing,” Turnbull explained. “You are safe here, Ray, don’t worry. Now, I must be getting back. I’ll bring the article by later for you to sign.”

“Sure thing, Turnbull. Thanks for your help.” Ray started when Turnbull grabbed his hand and shook it vigorously. 

“Call me Renfield. It was my pleasure, Ray. I’ll see you later.” 

The man bounded off, leaving Ray blinking after him somewhat stupefied by his excitable personality. He shook his head with a smile thinking about how folk said he was full of energy. They clearly hadn’t met anyone like Renfield Turnbull.

****

“Ah Corporal, you’re back,” Inspector Frobisher regarded the younger man absently. “Was it a fruitful patrol?”

“Yes, Sir, we had a new arrival today by way of Edmonton,” Fraser hung his hat on a hook by his own desk and removed his rifle, stowing it securely in a cabinet behind his chair. 

“That’s an arduous route. Canadian?”

“No, actually they were American,” Fraser explained. “A family by the name of Kowalski.” 

Frobisher grunted. “Doesn’t sound like a Yank, Polish maybe.” 

Fraser wasn’t really qualified to answer, “Perhaps, Sir, they sounded American nonetheless.” 

“Fair enough. Any trouble in town today?”

“Both the saloon and Frannie’s Roadhouse were relatively peaceful this afternoon, which is a pleasant change from recent weeks. It seems the presence of Mr. Vecchio, now that he’s returned, is intimidating some of our more unruly residents into line.”

Frobisher chuckled. “Ah yes, I’ve heard stories about those Italians. As long as he’s toeing the line as well it shouldn’t be a problem.” 

“No, Sir.”

“Keep an eye on him, Benton. Sometimes the illusion of power that money and success brings can twist a good man’s mind into thinking he has more authority than he is entitled to.” 

Fraser nodded and sat down at his desk to start his paperwork. “Understood, Sir. We appear to have developed a rapport which is likely to work in the depot’s favour.”

“Good work, Benton. Keep it up. You can sign off early today while it’s quiet. You’ve been working hard keeping the new arrivals in line, you’ve earned a short break.” 

“I’m quite alright, Sir, I don’t need…” Fraser caught Frobisher’s unwavering look and immediately cut off his protest. “Thank you kindly, Sir, I’ll just finish up today’s registration forms and be on my way." 

“You do that,” Frobisher put on his hat and headed for the door. “Meet you for a drink at Welsh’s eight sharp, don’t be late.” 

“Right you are, Sir,” Fraser gave him a nod and a smile. “Eight o’clock, I’ll be there.” 

“Good man.” 

Fraser let the smile fade once he was alone in the depot and groaned softly. “Oh, dear.” No matter how many times he insisted that he didn’t drink and wasn’t really comfortable in the saloon, Buck Frobisher continued to invite him and it was simply impolite to refuse his commanding officer. 

It wasn’t that the saloon was a greatly objectionable place. On the contrary, Welsh, initially an American prospector himself, had fallen in love with a Canadian woman. Now he ran a law-abiding, successful establishment alongside his now wife, Meg, with a gruff but fair hand. It was simply not the sort of social setting Fraser had ever felt comfortable in. At least Welsh never pressured him into drinking alcohol, even if he did tease about providing him with tea from Frannie’s next door. 

Fraser sighed softly and ran a hand through his hair. He knew Frobisher likely felt indebted to him in some way after what happened with his father. The man had lost his former partner and friend and Fraser wouldn’t begrudge him the company as well-meaning as it was. It was not as though it were a great hardship to him, really, and there was no harm in making an effort once in a while with the local clientele. If nothing else, it made their job of keeping the peace much easier in the long run. 

****

“Stanley!” 

Ray groaned when he was suddenly shaken roughly. 

“You staying in there all day? Come on, Son, get up.” 

Peeling his eyes open and glaring up at his father, Ray let out another groan. “What time is it?” 

“Five. Your mother’s run a bath and made some breakfast, get your ass up. I’m going to check on the horses.” 

Sighing at the light pouring into their hut, Ray sat up and rubbed his face. He shuffled into the makeshift living area his mum had set up. They’d hung blankets between the sleeping areas, giving them a semblance of privacy, but it really was just a large hut. “Dad said something about a bath?” 

Barbara gave her dishevelled sleepy son a smile. “In the far corner, Stella’s already used it but I topped up the hot water for you and put a towel and some clean clothes on the chair.” 

“You’re the best.” Grinning and kissing his mom’s cheek, Ray ambled through the hanging blankets and stripped off his long underwear. He sank into the metal tub of wonderfully hot water with a satisfied moan. It felt amazing to get the grime of their journey off his skin and out of his hair, finally. “Mom, you said Stella had already used it, where is she?”

“Oh, she went out, Dear, she wanted to explore the town.” 

“You let her go on her own?” Ray scrubbed himself quickly and ran the soap over his hair before dunking under the water with a splash. “You can’t let a lady like Stella go out there by herself. Anything could happen.”

“Oh, I’m sure she’ll be quite fine, Stanley, she did have an escort. I’m sure that nice Mountie man will keep her completely safe,” Barbara replied cheerfully. 

Stilling, Ray scowled. “Mountie?”

“Why, yes, he came by this morning. He left something for you, said to drop it by the depot later. When Stella said she wanted to see the town, he offered to escort her. Such a polite young man.” 

Getting out of the bath, Ray rubbed himself dry, ruffling his hair with the towel until it was mostly dry and standing on end, his frown deepening. “Corporal Fraser was here?” 

“No no, it was that other young man, the constable, I can’t remember his name,” Barbara hesitated. “Is it important? He left a newspaper for you.” 

Relaxing a little, making a face at how tense he’d been thinking Fraser was alone with Stella, Ray positioned a small mirror on a chair and sat cross-legged on the floor beside the tub. “No, not important.” Carefully scraping the straight razor across his skin, he shaved off the scruffy beard he'd managed to grow. After dunking his head into the bath water, he patted his face dry and once satisfied, started pulling on the freshly pressed clothes his mom had left for him. Pushing the blankets back, he gave his mom a small smile. “How’d you find time to do a wash, mom?” 

Barbara chuckled and patted Ray’s cheek affectionately. “It’s all part of a mother’s magic, Stanley. Now do you want oats or bread?” 

“Uh, neither, should sign that paper and get it back to Turnbull and go see the mine Dad’s been so excited about.” 

Giving her son a pointed look, Barbara folded her arms. “This wouldn’t be you running after Stella to keep an eye on her now would it?”

“Mom, come on.” Rolling his eyes, Ray shifted uncomfortably under his mom’s scrutiny.

“Stanley,” Barbara took hold of Ray’s hands and squeezed them. “She’s just angry, love. But she does love you, you just can’t force these things. Give her time to come around.”

Pursing his lips, Ray looked away. “We just spent two months in separate wagons ignoring each other, mom, she’s had time, don’t you think I get her feelings about me? She doesn’t want to marry me and I’ve accepted that.” He shook his head. “Besides, this has nothing to do with Stella. Like I said, I need to go find that Mountie and show Dad around so he can make this trip worthwhile and find us some gold.” He didn’t add that he hoped to run into the Corporal when he stopped by the depot. Those thoughts were definitely better kept to himself.

“All right, if you say so.”

“I do say so, mom, I’m over it. I’m over Stella all right, just leave it be.” 

“Okay!”

“Alright then!” Ray softened and kissed his mom’s cheek. “Don’t worry about me and Stella, I’m okay really,” he gave her a small smile knowing she wouldn’t be convinced and picked up the newspaper. “I’ll see you later okay?” 

“Be safe, Dear.” 

“Dad, you ready?” Ray called out as he stepped out of the hut into the warm sunshine. He shrugged his jacket on. Canadian summers, although bright this far north, still had an edge to them when the wind picked up.

“Let’s go, daylight’s wasting.” Damian fell into step beside his son. “It’s bigger than I thought it would be, more built up too.”

“What did you expect, igloos?” Snorting softly at his own joke, Ray found himself enjoying the brisk air and bright sunshine. Even this early in the morning, Dawson City was filled with a similar bustle of activity he had grown accustomed to in Chicago. 

“Well, yeah, certainly not an entire city. Feels like any American city right now.” 

“Dad, they’re Canadian, not uncivilised mountain men.” Ray snickered a laugh, shaking his head. “Come on, I got to drop this off at the depot and then we can head to your gold mine and you can show me what all this fuss has been about.”

“Oh it’s an exciting time, Son. I can feel it, this is going to be good for us, you’ll see.”

Ray looked at his dad with a wry curl of his lips, he wasn’t so sure about the profitability of gold mining. He knew that the number of prospectors actually striking it rich was low but he wasn’t going to dampen his father’s enthusiasm. This was the most animated he’d been in a long time and Ray wasn’t going to be the one to take that away from him. Not this time.

****

They arrived at the depot a short while later and Ray ducked inside by himself. His father, feeling ill at ease making nice with the police, went on ahead and told him he’d meet him at the roadhouse they’d spotted a little further along.

Spotting a white haired Mountie sitting at a desk, Ray knocked politely and opened the door. “Uh, hi?” 

“Hello, come on in, how can I help?” The man's warm tenor filled the empty depot and Ray relaxed at the friendly welcome.

“I was looking for Constable Turnbull,” Ray held up the newspaper. “Need to sign and return this.”

“A newspaper?” the older man frowned in confusion.

Grinning, feeling a little awkward, Ray moved closer and placed the paper on the desk. “Yeah, he, uh, wanted me to sign an article I wrote about the Klondike mining and the gold rush.” 

“Ah yes, you must be Kowalski.”

Surprised, Ray nodded. “Yeah.”

“The good constable didn’t stop talking about meeting you. He gets very excited when Yanks write about us, it is somewhat endearing I’m sure. Buck Frobisher,” the elder man held out his hand.

Accepting it and giving it a firm shake, Ray smiled. “Ray Kowalski. So you’re the guy in charge?” 

“Apparently so, though it is more of a team effort I like to think.” 

“Sure,” Ray looked around. “Though, you seem to be short of a team.”

Frobisher gave him a dry look. “Your powers of observation are astounding.” 

Chuckling at the sarcasm, Ray grinned. “Guess they’re pretty busy with all us newcomers.”

“That we are. I believe Corporal Fraser is on patrol and Constable Turnbull is escorting a young Miss Williams around the city before his shift. Shall I tell him you stopped by?”

“Ah no, it’s alright. He just wanted the signature. Do you, uh, have a pen?” Ray ran a hand through his hair, doing his utmost to not think about Stella hanging onto Turnbull's arm. He liked the man and really didn't want to have to kick him in the head. He accepted Frobisher's pen and wrote his scrawl of a signature under the article before handing it back with a thanks. 

“Fraser, I mean Corporal Fraser mentioned a local newspaper here, I’d like to check it out, see if they have work.”

“Ah, the Klondike Nugget. Follow the road past Frannie’s Roadhouse and turn left at the end of the street, it’ll be the white building on your right,” Frobisher supplied helpfully. “You’re not here to write anything disparaging about Dawson, I hope?” His stomach made a loud gurgling sound and Frobisher shifted in his chair, loudly passing wind. “Excuse me, too much coffee this morning.”

Pulling a face, Ray shook his head. “No, I write whatever the truth is, that’s a journalist’s job.” 

Frobisher gave him an appraising look and smiled. “Glad to hear it, Son. I’m sure I’ll be seeing you around.” 

Sensing that he was being dismissed, Ray nodded and backed up towards the door. “Thanks for the directions.” 

“Don’t mention it, happy to help.” 

It struck Ray as he left the depot that either the Mounties they’d met were just unnaturally polite or simply unnatural. Maybe it was a Canadian thing. Still, they had been very nice and more than welcoming, he thought as he strolled over to the roadhouse. He wondered absently how long this good fortune was going to last. 

****

Entering the roadhouse, Ray heard raised voices and frowned to find his father having a heated debate with a tall, balding man in a snappy suit. Taking a deep breath and readying himself to break up an impending fight, he headed over. "Can't leave you alone for a second. What trouble have you gotten yourself into now?" 

"Excuse me, we're talkin' here, step away before I put you on your skinny ass," the bald man stepped up, shooting a dark look at Ray.

Ray huffed a humourless laugh and squared up to the lanky man, staring into his hard eyes. "Oh, yeah? You sure you want to mess up your pretty Italian suit?" He'd picked up on the man's slight Italian accent, it was one he was very familiar with having lived in Chicago. He flicked the lapel of the man's jacket, grinning cockily, daring him to make the first move. He'd gone toe to toe with these so called mafia guys before and the only thing they responded to was strength. It was a risk, the guy could simply shoot him but Ray was betting on the Mounties having confiscated his weapon just like Fraser had theirs. If it came down to fists, Ray was confident he could take him.

Damian, oblivious to the instant tension brewing between the two men, clapped his son's shoulder. "Mr. Vecchio, this is my son I told you about, Stanley." Damian positively beamed at his son. "Son, this is Raymond Vecchio, he struck it big time from the mine here, he owns the main one and he’s given me a generous job offer, so I can start earning straight away rather than digging around for my own find. I told you our fortune was going to change." 

“Yeah? You going to teach him some manners?” Ray Vecchio scoffed, his gaze fixed on Ray.

Damian laughed and squeezed his son’s shoulder. “It’s been a long trip, makes him twitchy -- right, Stanley? He didn’t mean to interrupt us, Mr. Vecchio. He’s a good boy.”

“Gee, thanks, Dad,” Ray muttered sardonically, sparing his father a look of disbelief. Since when did his father start making excuses for him? 

Vecchio snorted, "Forget about it, you're just a no-account guttersnipe, not worth the cost of my cleaning bill, _Stanley_." He shoved Ray hard in the shoulder as he moved past him and found himself a free table. "Francesca! Can I get some service here please?" He hollered. "Damian, come sit with me, we weren't finished." He waved Damian over, his eyes glittering at Ray in an unspoken challenge.

"That man is a prick." Ray growled at his father and chewed on his lower lip as he glared at Vecchio.

"Be polite, son, we're discussing the mine, he is being quite generous. Don’t ruin this for me." 

"You can't be serious?" 

"This is why we're here, Stanley!” Damian snapped tersely. “Now I'm not getting into this with you again so if you can't be civil either leave or sit down and shut pan." 

Ray stared after his father indignantly as he happily headed over to Vecchio. "Great, that's just great," he muttered. Finding himself a seat at a different table he scowled at the menu and kept an eye on Vecchio. Wanting to whip Vecchio's gussied up Italian ass up and down the main street, he wished like hell he was back in Chicago and not up in the backwaters of Canada.

"Can I get you anything, doll?" 

Ray peered over his menu and looked up into the soft brown eyes and warm scarlet smile of a waitress. "Uh coffee please," he gave her a thin smile. 

"One coffee. Sugar?" 

"If you can spare it," Ray replied hopefully. Sugar wasn't always easy to come by in these more remote areas but Ray’s sweet tooth beckoned. 

"For you, handsome, no problem." The waitress grinned and held out her hand. "I'm Francesca. You must be new here. Welcome to my roadhouse." 

Eyes widening, Ray sat up straighter out of respect. "Francesca, where are my manners? I'm Ray Kowalski, it's a pleasure," he took her hand and kissed the back of it lightly. "Sorry about all the fuss, some folks think they're big bugs around here." He shot a look over at Vecchio.

Francesca chuckled and demurely tucked a strand of brown hair behind her ear. "Some folks here are. Ray is my brother and he worked hard to make a name up here. He's actually the richest man in town right now if you can believe it. Owns the largest gold mine up at Moosehide."

Ray shut his eyes and tried to shrink lower in his chair. "Sorry," he muttered again sullenly. He felt a slender hand on his shoulder give him a squeeze.

"Don't worry about it," she grinned at him. "He might be my brother but that doesn't stop him from being a pain in the ass." 

Allowing himself a quick laugh at the woman's good nature, Ray looked up at her and smiled gratefully. "Thanks, Francesca." 

"Call me Frannie, and let me whip you up some eggs with your coffee. They're hard to get up here so I won't take no for an answer." She leaned closer and Ray noticed Vecchio staring at them from across the room. "Least I can do for someone who's rattled my brother's cage." She winked and Ray snickered. 

Frannie patted his cheek and strode off towards the back, calling out his coffee order to a dark-skinned man making the drinks behind the counter. "Jack, one black coffee for the good lookin' blondie in the back."

"You got it, Frannie. Comin' right up."

Slouching in his chair a little, Ray folded his arms and smirked, making a point not to look at Vecchio. Although he could feel the man's murderous gaze burning into his skin, at that moment he didn't much care; the door had opened and in walked what Ray considered to be a vision in red. 

Corporal Fraser cast his gaze over the room and made his way to the counter, removing his Stetson before taking a seat. Ray, feeling decidedly better about his situation, was about to make his way over to him when Vecchio's voice cut through the roadhouse, causing Ray to flinch.

"Benny!" 

Scowling, Ray watched Vecchio saunter across the roadhouse and grasp Fraser's shoulders in a half embrace. _Benny, how cute_ , he thought.

"Haven't seen you since you fixed my flint with Zuko. Which I greatly appreciate, by the way."

"Hello, Ray, welcome back to Dawson. I'm glad the matter was resolved, though I would rather such issues reach resolution without bloodshed and law breaking." His pointed look at Vecchio returned only a smug smirk, that made Kowalski want to slap him. 

"It was fortunate that Zuko chose to leave Dawson of his own volition. We have enough to handle here without allowing bad eggs to fester," Fraser continued.

Vecchio grinned and sat down beside Fraser, not before throwing a glance in Ray's direction that had him bristling for a fight. The man was up to something.

"That is exactly what I was hoping to talk to you about," Vecchio declared deliberately loud enough for Ray to overhear. "I have noticed that there seem to be more varmints appearing in town of late and I'm willing to offer my services to help keep the peace." 

Fraser gave Ray a curious look. " _You_ want to help _me_ keep the peace?" 

"Of course, Benny, what are friends for?"

"Well, I hardly think--"

"--Besides I got a nose for sour characters, if you know what I'm saying?" 

Shaking his head, Fraser almost seemed to shrug. "I have no idea. Are you referring to anybody in particular? Is someone causing you bother?" 

Vecchio's smile widened. "You could say that, Benny," he half turned and cocked his head in Ray's direction. "For starters, you've welcomed mudsill folk like that Polack over there into Dawson and they are stinking up my sister's establishment." 

Ray clenched his fists under the table - grateful his dad was on the deaf side - ready to throw down, when fate intervened in the form of Jack with his coffee and eggs. 

****

"Ray, there is no call to be so ornery." Fraser was affronted and lowered his voice. "Ray Kowalski has only just arrived and I have had no cause to be concerned about his behaviour. Perhaps if you weren't quite so defensive when newcomers show up, you would make more friends rather than enemies."

"Hey, I'm not defensive!" Vecchio protested with a frown. 

"Ray," Fraser tilted his head with obvious disapproval and raised a single eyebrow. "You make a point to challenge and or drive out any man you consider to be potential competition from Dawson at the earliest opportunity. I have had to stop seventeen fights just this year and it’s only July." 

Vecchio held up his hands. "I wasn't part of all of those." 

"No, but you certainly helped instigate and manipulate the situations to your advantage," Fraser countered evenly. "Would it do you any harm to simply give a man a chance before you cast judgement and condemn him?" 

Vecchio turned back towards the counter, his shoulders hunched. "So you don't think he's trouble?" he asked quietly. 

"No, I don't, Ray. I think he's a man searching for better fortune, just like yourself," Fraser insisted softly.

Letting out a sigh, Vecchio gave Fraser a discerning look. "You're a sucker for hard luck cases, Fraser."

Fraser smiled at that. "Quite possibly why we've become friends, Ray." 

Vecchio laughed at that and clapped Fraser on the back. "Nice to see you're growing a sense of humour, Benny.” He sighed and looked at Fraser with resigned acceptance. Arguing with Fraser rarely got him what he wanted. “Because it’s you, I'll lay off and be good for now, okay?" he grinned.

Fraser smiled warmly and nodded. “Thank you, I assure you it’s for the best.” He looked up as Jack brought over his tea. “Thank you kindly, Jack.” 

“No problem, Red.” Jack beamed. “Frannie says it’s on the house.” 

“Oh, I couldn’t possibly impose.”

Jack shook his head and held up his hand. “Won’t take your money, she said anybody that can talk Vecchio off his high horse has earned a free cup of tea.”

Fraser tugged his ear modestly and glanced over at Vecchio who was up and gesturing at Damian as he headed for the door. 

"Hey, Damian, you get into any trouble or need anything you just give me a shout okay?" 

"Sure thing, Ray, thanks."

"Don't mention it." Vecchio threw one last thoughtful glance at Ray, his eyes darting to meet Fraser's momentarily, his mouth curling a little, before taking his leave

**** 

Ray fought the urge to chase after the guy and kick him in the head. He was helped in his efforts considerably by the sight of Corporal Fraser making his way towards him with a faint smile. 

“Hello again, Ray, may I join you?” 

“Um, yeah,” Ray sat up straighter and clutched his hands in his lap, uncurling them from the tight fists he’d been holding. “By all means,” he added quickly, with a flash of a smile. 

Fraser sat opposite him and clasped his hands around his tea cup on the table in front of him. “I get the impression that you and Ray Vecchio did not get off to a good start.”

“Huh, you could say that,” Ray bit his lower lip and idly fiddled with the handle of his coffee cup. “He gets real sensitive if you interrupt his conversation with your own father apparently.” 

“I see.” Fraser leaned a little closer, his expression pained. “He’s really not that bad once you get to know him. I think much of his posturing is down to insecurity. He struck rich here very quickly, and that attracts attention, not always good attention. Furthermore, he is used to being more in control of the neighbourhoods he's a part of.” 

"I don't doubt it, he's Italian, he's probably part of those new mafia types and if he's not he'll be connected to someone who is." Sensing that Fraser and Vecchio had a bit of history - and that thought had no right making him feel jealous - Ray held Fraser’s earnest gaze. “No offence, but I don’t really want to get to know him and after today I’m pretty sure that feeling is mutual.” 

“I suppose first impressions carry a significant weight,” Fraser conceded almost apologetically. “I’m sorry you’ve had a disagreeable first morning in Dawson.” 

“Not your fault, Fraser. Besides, it’s definitely improving,” he grinned brightly at the man, who sat back with a pleased if shy smile, his storm blue eyes twinkling at the compliment. 

“I’m glad to hear it,” he replied graciously. “What are your plans today?”

“Well, my dad wants to go to the mine, so that’s first on the agenda. Later, I’m going to check out that newspaper, the Klondike Notebook or something.”

“The Klondike Nugget?” 

“Yeah, yeah, see if I can't talk them into giving me a job.” 

“They would be foolish not to, Ray. A writer of your caliber would add a certain prestige to our little newspaper.” 

Ray felt his face heat up at Fraser’s words. “You read my work?” 

“Of course. I found your exposition regarding the near futile search for gold and it being more about finding a purpose than a fortune, quite poignant. Have you considered writing a book?”

Stunned to hear his work described so eloquently and with such keen sincerity, Ray found himself, for once, at a loss for words. 

“Ray?”

“Ah, yeah,” he shook himself out of his daze and gave Fraser a brilliant smile to stop him from frowning slightly at his bout of inarticulate gaping. “I have thought about it, that is, a book I mean.”

Fraser beamed at him. “You really should, Ray, you have quite the talent. I, for one, would enjoy reading more of your work.” 

Feeling his heart thump harder in his chest at Fraser’s dazzling smile and kind words, Ray felt a little breathless and let out a soft self conscious laugh, his face burning. Land sakes, he had to be positively glowing scarlet! He jumped when Fraser’s hand rested on his arm. 

“Are you alright, Ray? You seem a little flushed, are you developing a fever?” he questioned with rapidly growing concern. 

Licking his lips, Ray shook his head and met Fraser’s troubled searching gaze. “No, I’m good, just not, um,” he rubbed the back of his neck and forced himself to take a deep breath. “I’m not used to someone saying something so nice about me… I mean my writing.” Someone seemingly so refined and obviously well-educated, he didn’t add.

His blue eyes flickering at that, Fraser’s lips pressed together in a congenial smile. “That should change,” he returned softly.

Surprised, Ray stared at Fraser and held his open gaze for a long moment, feeling both shy and excited. This man noticed him, was looking at _him_ , and had spoken to him with admiration. It had been a long time since anybody had _really_ noticed Ray Kowalski. His stomach fluttered and he ducked his head with a bashful smile, not entirely sure what to do with the feelings Corporal Fraser seemed to evoke in him without even trying. It wasn’t like it was intentional, it couldn’t possibly be, he told himself firmly. _Get those foolish ideas out of your head right now, Kowalski._

“I was actually on my way to the mine as part of my patrol before I stopped here for a spot of tea,” Fraser continued cheerfully, giving Ray the opportunity to mentally pull himself together and relax. “If you like, I can take your father and yourself up there. You will need your horses; it is quite a way on foot.”

“That’d be great, knowing me and my Dad, we’d end up lost and roaming the Northwest Areas until wintertime.”

Fraser's mouth twitched in amusement. “Territory, Ray, not ‘Areas’ and if you got lost it would be my solemn duty to rescue you.”

Ray regarded Fraser with a chuckle. “Your duty, huh?” 

“It is not uncommon for Americans to be taken by surprise by the Canadian wilderness, Ray,” Fraser replied dryly. 

“You saying we wouldn’t know what to do with ourselves if we had to face down a caribou or a polar bear?” Ray grinned, enjoying this side of Fraser he was getting to see. 

“I said no such thing; for one, we don’t have polar bears this far south. That’s just silly, Ray,” came the playful reply. “But if I were a gambling man, I certainly wouldn’t put money on an American surviving being lost in the Yukon for very long.”

“Ooh,” Ray put a hand over his heart as he laughed. “That hurts. I had no idea you thought so little of us Americans,” he teased. 

“Not all of you, Ray.” Fraser murmured gently, looking down at his tea. His eyes flicked up and gave Ray a brief probing glance from beneath long dark eyelashes that made Ray’s mouth instantly dry. He watched Fraser’s tongue dart across his lower lip in an apparent nervous gesture before he picked up his cup of tea and finished it. When Fraser looked up once more, his face betrayed nothing and was a polite Mountie mask complete with that barely there smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “Are you ready to go?” 

The moment was broken and Ray nodded and swallowed his coffee, the burn from the hot liquid helping to distract him from his temporary insanity as he mentally chided himself for his treacherous thoughts. _Don't do this to yourself. Do not even think about seducing the Mountie. He is way out of your league, Kowalski. He's so far past your league, his league is like a dot on the horizon. He doesn't want you, how could he? Don't be an idiot_. 

“Yes,” he bit out, getting up and weaving over to his dad’s table to let him know the change of plan. Damian threw a frown in Fraser’s direction as he explained and although visibly unhappy, he got up and followed his son. “We’re ready, Fraser, lead the way.” 

Giving Damian a polite smile, that was not returned, Fraser put on his Stetson. “We’ll need to go back to your plot to get your horses, it’ll be easier. We’ve had some rain so part of the route is quite muddy,” he elucidated. “Thank you kindly, Francesca,” he called out as they headed for the exit. 

“Anytime, Benton!” Francesca fluttered her eyelashes at Fraser and gave him a little wave. 

Ray was equal amounts puzzled and entertained when Fraser stiffened and cleared his throat before abruptly turning away from Francesca’s adoring gaze; a distinctive flush colouring his pale skin and exited the roadhouse purposefully. It seemed to Ray that the man was not partial to feminine wiles. It allowed a dangerous flare of hope to bloom in his chest. Perhaps he might get a chance to indulge his unexpected attraction to the man after all.

****

Fraser returned to the depot after a short patrol and greeted both Frobisher who was on his way out and Turnbull. His morning had been surprisingly pleasant. He found Ray Kowalski an engaging man and time seemed to pass quickly in his company. It was a welcome change from usual. He liked his colleagues well enough and a few of the residents he’d come to know like Ray Vecchio, Francesca and Harding Welsh but Ray Kowalski had a way about him that teased out more of him, helped him to feel more relaxed in his own skin. He had _wanted_ to answer his tentatively probing questions where normally he would be reticent, and he desired to see more of that delightful smile. In a word, Ray Kowalski was charming and Fraser realised he didn’t mind the thought of being charmed by the man. 

He smiled indulgently to himself as he sorted through his paperwork and sat down at his desk. 

“Corporal Fraser, I heard you were joined by the Kowalskis on your patrol,” Turnbull placed a cup of tea on Fraser’s desk. 

“Yes, I invited them to join me while I completed my patrol. They were heading up to the mine anyway.” Resolved to complete his paperwork, Fraser looked up slowly after a few moments when Turnbull lingered. “Was there something else, Turnbull?”

Eagerly Turnbull sat down in the chair in front of his desk and leaned forward. “What is he like?”

“Who?”

“Ray Kowalski.” 

“Why?”

Turnbull dipped his head and smiled sheepishly. “Well he is an interesting man. I would very much like to be his friend and know more about him. Not many Americans like him come up this far North.” 

Staring at Turnbull for a long moment, his mouth open, Fraser narrowed his left eye dubiously at the Constable. “Like him?”

“Why yes, he is pleasant and shows genuine interest when one is talking, unlike many Americans who have a tendency to interrupt and talk over you. Not to mention attractive. I was surprised to learn from Miss Williams that she ended her engagement with him on the journey up here.” 

At the revelation that Ray had been engaged to be married, to a beautiful woman no less, Fraser felt an unexpected twinge in his gut. Adding to the fact that Turnbull had just freely admitted to finding the man attractive with no apprehension - it certainly clarified why he'd been transferred to Dawson from a good posting in Toronto at least - Fraser silently resigned himself to once again not getting what he wanted. “Now Turnbull, I hadn’t thought you one for stereotyping others nor for indulging in gossip,” Fraser chastised, mildly perturbed. 

“Oh Sir, you misunderstand, it isn’t down to the Americans.” He looked down at his lap timidly. “I find many people lose patience with me, I tend to babble.” 

“Ah.” Fraser cleared his throat, unused to this level of communication with Turnbull himself and felt somewhat shamefaced that he too had had little patience for the man. “That is entirely their loss, Constable,” he answered graciously with a rub of his eyebrow. “And if you are interested in being friends with Ray Kowalski then you should talk to him and ask him about himself, I’m sure he would be more than amenable.” 

Turnbull beamed. “You think so, Sir? I don’t tend to make friends easily.” 

Giving the man a small smile of understanding, Fraser nodded, “Nor I, Turnbull. It is to be expected I suppose when you grow up in the Northwest Territories, we don’t get as much exposure to society as our American friends.”

“Thank you, Sir,” Turnbull stood up and practically stood to attention in front of him. “I knew you’d understand.” 

“It’s quite alright,” Fraser paused and licked his lip when Turnbull showed no signs of going away. “Dismissed, Turnbull.”

“Right you are, Sir.” 

Fraser watched the constable busy himself with his own duties, humming cheerfully all the while and couldn’t help a small frown at the thought of Turnbull getting to know Ray Kowalski better. The voiceless and unanticipated thread of jealousy Turnbull’s interest in Ray had elicited, had his stomach twisting in knots which was quite unlike him. He hadn’t felt so drawn to another since, well, that didn’t bear thinking about, and he had no business feeling such things about Ray. He’d only just met the man for God's sakes and Ray was free to make friends with whomever he desired. 

Fraser clenched his jaw and forced himself to concentrate on his paperwork and not on how much he too would rather be spending more time with Ray Kowalski, getting to know him so much better.

****

“I got a job!” Ray announced as he burst through the door of the hut. He stopped and stared at the mass of clothes that now filled their small space. “What the hell?” he peered around a row of hanging shirts. “Mom?”

“Oh hi, Dear!” Barbara called out from the back of the hut, hidden by rows of clothes strung across the hut. 

“These can’t all be ours?” 

“Oh heavens, no,” Barbara was busy sewing amidst two piles of neatly folded trousers and shirts when Ray found her. “I offered to help the neighbours, it’s hard to get clothes clean when you’re busy mining or trying to make a living or just stay alive.” 

“You… offered?” Grimacing at the sheer quantity surrounding him, everywhere he turned, Ray rubbed his mouth. “Does Dad know about this?” 

“Why does that matter?” Barbara looked up at her son quizzically. “I’ve made quite a profit already.” 

“Wait, we've been here less than two months and you already got people paying you to wash, dry and fix their clothes?” 

“Of course! Honestly, Stanley, I’m not quite as simple as you seem to think,” Barbara admonished affectionately. 

“I don’t,” Ray closed his eyes and shook his head. “Nevermind, I got a job.” 

“Oh that’s wonderful news!” 

“Yeah, I’m going to be working for the local newspaper they have here. I’m writing again,” he smiled hesitantly.

“It’s about time.”

Ray tensed at the sound of Stella’s voice and resisted the urge to hide. "We’ve only been here a few weeks, Stell’. I think that’s pretty good going, considering.” He turned to face her and gave her a tentative smile. 

“I’m happy for you, Ray,” she smiled serenely at him. “At least now you won’t be bored and getting into trouble.”

“Thanks, I think,” Ray shoved his hands into his pockets awkwardly. “Mom said you got Vecchio to accompany you around town today?”

Removing her bonnet, revealing wavy blonde hair that she released from the tight bun on her scalp, Stella hummed with a coy smile dancing over her lips. “He did, he was very nice, a perfect gentleman. I feel like I have made a charming friend in Mr. Vecchio.” 

His breath catching in his throat, Ray scowled. “Vecchio? Charming?” 

“Yes, Ray.” Stella’s smile was bright and happy and it made Ray feel nauseous. “He’s offered to be my escort whenever I need. There isn’t any call for teachers here really but he has suggested that, should I wish to stay in more… pleasant accommodation and aid him with his accounting, he would be happy to help arrange something for me.” 

Chewing his bottom lip harshly, Ray averted his gaze, anger bubbling up inside his chest. “Yeah well maybe you should, this hut is no place for a lady with high ambition such as yourself, Stella. In fact, why don’t you stay with Vecchio? I’m sure he’d be more than happy to have you.” 

Stella pinned Ray with a sharp look and grabbed his jacket, tugging him away from his mother and to the front of the hut. “Don’t do this,” she hissed angrily. “Nothing happened, Ray. He was just being nice. Am I not allowed to make friends? You have. Your father doesn’t stop grumbling about your daily jaunts with your Mountie friend.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Ray shot back, his stomach roiling uncomfortably. Stella knew him better than anybody but there were secrets about him that not even she knew, she couldn’t possibly and he had trusted his mother not to say anything about his past… transgression. 

“You know exactly what I mean,” she retorted vehemently.

Ray felt hot and sick and opened his mouth, ready to refute any and all accusations - he and Fraser were just friends who enjoyed spending time together, nothing more Ray thought frustratedly - only for Stella to hold up her hand and turn away from him. 

“You know what, Ray? I knew you would do this, you just can’t be happy that I’m trying to find a place for myself here in this hell hole. A hell hole I only came to because you asked me, because you made promises you couldn’t keep. If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t even be here, I would still have a job and a house and a life.” 

Ray flinched as though he’d been punched in the gut. “I’m… I’m sorry Stella…" he muttered. "I didn’t intend to lose my job,” he glared at the floor, blinking away the sting in his eyes. “I wouldn’t ever have put you in that position if I’d known but when I asked you to come with us, we were already engaged.” He glanced up at her, reluctant, not wanting to see the accusation and hurt written all over her delicate face. “I loved you... I didn’t want to let that go.” 

Sighing, Stella bowed her head and then closed the distance between them. Taking Ray’s face in her slender hands she forced him to meet her gaze and gave him a plaintive smile. “And I loved you but we both know it isn’t enough to make a life. We’ve both made mistakes and bad decisions and now we have to live with them.” 

Ray lowered his eyes, his chest tightening. This was the final goodbye they’d been avoiding. Despite knowing he and Stella just weren’t right for each other, every cell in his body hated that it was happening and even now he resisted the inevitable. “We could try?”

Shaking her head slightly, Stella pressed a dry chaste kiss to his lips. “We did, Ray. We both know this isn’t what we want, doesn’t mean I won’t always care for you but it’s time to move on.” She straightened and pulled away, pausing when Ray caught one of her hands. “I think it’s best if I stay in the city’s hotel. I have enough money of my own saved to afford it.”

Giving her hand a squeeze, Ray wouldn’t meet her gaze. “You’ll be alright?”

“I’ll be fine, Ray. I’ll go in the morning. Now, if you could give your mother and I some privacy, I’ll explain the situation, I don’t want her worrying.” 

Taking a deep breath, Ray nodded, met her eyes for a moment and then let her hand slip out of his grasp. The next moment he was heading out the front door and marching through the streets bathed in the perpetual twilight of the Yukon summer. 

He didn’t know where to go and although it hurt to know his relationship with Stella was long over, he felt oddly light and at peace with it. His parents would be disappointed but at that very second, Ray couldn’t bring himself to care about that. All his life he’d been worrying about what people thought and trying to meet their expectations and what had he gotten for it? A whole lot of nothing.

Spotting Welsh’s bustling saloon not far from Frannie’s Roadhouse, Ray finally decided to indulge in a drink. Lord knew he could use one. Up here, near enough to the top of the world, Ray knew he had a chance to let go of everything, to start again. His Dad might have come looking for gold but Ray was going to make his own fortune with this opportunity, to hell with what everybody else thought. 

His first decision in this new life? He was going to spend a night wallowing with beer. His next decision, God willing, was to find a way to spend even more time with his new Mountie friend. Get closer to him, find out what made him tick, what turned his crank; and maybe just maybe use it to break through that polite Mountie facade and hear him moan with pleasure, even if it killed him. Which, knowing his luck, it undoubtedly would.

****

A night with beer was not the best decision he'd ever made. Ray groaned and buried his face into his pillow, making a face when he found the damp spot of drool he'd left. 

"Oh good, you're awake," Barbara peeked around the blanket shielding his bed from the rest of the hut. "Breakfast?" 

"Nuh uh," he grunted, draping his arm over his eyes, squeezing them shut. His head was pounding. He really hadn't thought he'd drank that much but apparently his body disagreed. Maybe he was just getting old. 

Barbara tsked at him and disappeared behind the blanket. "You need to eat, Stanley. I'll make porridge."

"Mom…" Ray was appalled at how whiny he sounded and rubbed his temples. 

"I know you're probably feeling low because of everything with Stella, but I won't have you neglecting yourself." Barbara continued in that no nonsense tone that meant she wasn't going to take no for an answer. "There's coffee in the pot when you're dressed."

"You're coddling the boy, Barbara," Damian gruffly complained.

"Husband, really, your son is hurting, the least you could do is--"

"--I'm not hurting," Ray interrupted, shoving his shirt into his waistband. "And I'm not a boy," he growled out at his father. "What happened with me and Stella has been a long time coming alright." 

"Oh, Stanley," his mom pouted at him sadly.

He held up a hand and poured himself a cup of coffee. "Look, I don't want to talk about it. She's fine, I'm fine, we're all fine."

Barbara petted her son's messy hair, ignoring his half-hearted protests. "I can understand wanting to wallow in denial and I know alcohol can help numb--"

"--God, mom!" Ray got up and downed his hot coffee, wincing at the burn in his throat. "I'm not in denial, I'm not wallowing. I just wanted to have a drink. Is that a crime? It doesn't mean anything!" He grabbed his coat and shoes, stumbling over a pile of shirts on his way to the door. 

"Stanley, where are you going?" 

"I'm going to work, where _I_ get to do the interrogations." 

"Stanley wait!" 

Damian huffed and turned the page of his newspaper. "Let him go, Barbara. I think the boy protests too much." 

"But, it's a Sunday!"

Barking a short laugh, Damian took a sip of coffee. "And he'll figure it out soon enough. A boy has to make his own mistakes if he's to become any kind of man and Lord knows, Stanley needs to start being a man, he’s been wallowing around here and running off with that Mountie for weeks now." 

Barbara glared at her husband and marched back to the table, clipping the back of his head lightly. "Really, Damian. It's days like today I ask myself where the man I married has gone. Clean up your plate when you're done," she commanded tersely, gathering up a pile of clean laundry in her arms and marching out the door. Damian stared after her with a bewildered pout before returning his attention to his newspaper with a shrug.

****

Stepping into the building of the Klondike Nugget, Ray marvelled at the large printing presses lining one wall and the typewriters on every desk. He had missed this. Where was everybody though? He spun around on the spot. There was nobody in the offices, no one at the desks. “What the hell?” 

“Excuse me, Sir, you shouldn’t be in here.” 

Ray whirled around and saw a Mountie he hadn’t met frowning at him. “I work here.”

The Mountie’s frown deepened and his hand hovered over his holster. “State your name, Sir.”

“Uh, Ray Kowalski, look it’s fine. I just got a job here yesterday, this is my first day.” 

“Sir, I’m afraid you’re going to have to come with me.” 

“What? Why?” Ray spluttered, frowning at the man who was barely twenty five, if that. “I haven’t done anything!”

“You’re at work, on a Sunday, Mr. Kowalski. That is breaking the law. You’ll have to come with me,” the Mountie insisted.

Closing his eyes and pressing his lips together tightly, Ray took a deep breath. “You have got to be shitting me,” he muttered. “Look, it’s fine, I’ll just go. No harm.” He took a few steps towards the Mountie who was between him and the main entrance. 

The Mountie reacted rapidly and Ray found himself staring down the business end of a revolver. He held up both hands slowly, his eyes wide. “Whoa, alright, alright. I’ll go anywhere you want. Just put that down.” 

“You do not give the orders here, Mr. Kowalski,” the Mountie gestured for him to turn around with a flick of his gun and Ray could see by the shaking of his hand holding the gun, that the young man was nervous so he just did as he was told. 

“Look, kid, there’s no need for this, I’m no threat. What’s your name?” 

“None of your concern.” 

Ray’s upper lip curled when his arms were yanked back and he felt cuffs closing around his wrists. This was beyond ridiculous. 

“You are under arrest, Mr. Kowalski--”

“--Oh yeah, tell me something I don’t know.” Ray scowled as he was led from the premises and frog-marched to the depot. At least the streets were quiet. Given that it was a Sunday morning - how he’d lost track of the days escaped him - they were probably at church or nursing hangovers like he’d wanted to do. 

“Corporal Fraser!” 

Ray muttered a curse under his breath as he was unceremoniously dumped into a chair at the depot. 

“What is it, Tremblay?” 

Ray couldn’t see Fraser but could hear his voice coming from somewhere from the back of the depot. 

“I have a prisoner.” 

“What?” 

Amused at Fraser’s astonished squawk of a reply, Ray snickered. “You know you’ve blown this way out of proportion, right?" He levelled a flat stare at Tremblay who just frowned at him. They both turned when Fraser appeared at the back door sans uniform, and Ray did a double take. 

Fraser’s suspenders were off his shoulders, hanging either side of his hips and his thin white henley was sticking to his broad chest, patched with sweat. His brow furrowed into a frown beneath damp waves of black hair that had come loose from their usually orderly state. Ray was quite sure part of his brain had exploded. _Lord and all his angels, the man is gorgeous,_ was the only thought running on repeat through his mind.

“Ray?” Fraser's eyebrows shot up to his hairline when he laid eyes on Ray in handcuffs. “What on Earth happened?”

“He was working on a Sunday,” Tremblay replied earnestly. 

Realising his jaw had hit the floor, Ray closed his mouth with a snap of teeth. “I was,” his voice catching, Ray cleared his throat, grateful he could form any words at all. “Checking the place out, and I forgot it was Sunday. I didn’t actually do any work.”

“Yes, but the intention, Sir,” Tremblay interrupted. 

Fraser opened and closed his mouth, bringing a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Let me get this straight, you arrested this man for the _intention_ of working on a Sunday?”

Tremblay shifted and hesitated. “...Yes, Sir.”

Blinking in disbelief, Fraser’s lips thinned and he nodded slowly. He was doing an admirable job of not losing his shit at his baby Mountie, Ray thought with a smirk. 

“Uncuff him please.”

“But, Sir, regulations--”

Fraser held up a hand, silencing Tremblay with a stern look. “I will handle Mr. Kowalski’s punishment for his transgression. Now uncuff him please, he is clearly not a threat.”

“Of course, Sir, right away.” 

"Told you," Ray murmured at the young man who blushed furiously at him.

Ray rubbed his wrists and threw a wry grin at Fraser. “You mean you actually have punishments for working on a Sunday?” 

“Yes,” Fraser answered sheepishly. “But they have not been enforced in quite some time. Constable Tremblay, you are dismissed.” 

The baby Mountie saluted and left the depot, leaving Ray snickering in his wake. “Keen, kid.”

“I apologise, Ray,” Fraser tugged on his ear. “Tremblay means well but he is a new recruit and can be a little over zealous at times.” 

“I got that.” Grinning widely, Ray turned and looked Fraser up and down openly as he perched on the nearest desk. “You’re out of uniform, Corporal,” he teased, biting his lower lip at the resulting blush creeping its way up Fraser’s throat at his brazen once over. 

“Ah, yes,” Fraser replied breathlessly and glanced down at himself as though just realising his state of undress. He gestured towards the back. “I was chopping wood for the depot, building up our stocks for the winter.” 

“Chopping wood, huh?” Ray pushed off the desk and approached Fraser with a playful smile, noticing his pupils had dilated as he drew closer. “Need a hand?” he asked demurely, not waiting for a reply as he moved past Fraser into the back of the depot. 

It opened up into an outdoor yard. There was an axe embedded in the flattened stump of a tree trunk and a neat heap of chopped wood piled up on one side with unchopped logs on the other. A small shed stood further back neatly filled with previously chopped wood to keep it dry. 

“You can chop wood?” 

Feeling the heat from Fraser near his back, his voice a husky note lower than usual, Ray took a minute to compose himself. “Yeah," he swallowed, very aware of Fraser's nearness behind him. "I had to do it a few times. No expert though,” he glanced over his shoulder with a smile as Fraser came to stand beside him. “Sincere offer, if you’d like a hand?” 

Giving Ray a sidelong glance, Fraser’s lips quirked into a small smile. “I would appreciate it, there’s another axe in the shed.” 

“Alright then,” Ray shrugged his jacket off and strolled across the yard to the shed. He picked up the red axe and tested it’s weight before he swung it. “Where do you want me?” he asked looking up at Fraser with a ribald grin. 

Fraser visibly swallowed at that question and if it were possible, Ray could have sworn that his cheeks grew a ruddier shade. If he hadn’t known better, he would say that the Corporal was flustered and it was Ray who was having that effect on him. Even though he did know better, he couldn’t help a pleased grin at the sight. 

“Over there,” Fraser pointed at the other tree stump. 

“All over it.” Ray swung the axe onto his shoulder and walked over, picking up a medium sized log, and dragging it to the stump. He could feel Fraser’s eyes on him, though, when he looked back, Fraser had his own axe in hand, and was preparing to swing it into his carefully placed piece of wood. 

Mildly disappointed, Ray shook his head and got down to work. They chopped in silence for a while and after some time, Fraser paused to remove his shirt. 

Ray managed to control himself, just, and didn't stare but instead stole sneaky indulgent glances at Fraser as he moved, and swung his axe with thunk after thunk. His own chopping became less regular as he enjoyed the sight of Fraser’s strong arms wielding the axe with practised ease. Fraser’s muscles rippled in his back and shoulders, and the sweatier he became, the more his hair became increasingly curled and messy, in a most fetching way. It had Ray feeling hot all over and not out of exertion. 

Suddenly, Fraser stopped and looked at him. 

Ray was caught. There was no way to pass off his staring as a casual glance. 

“Ray?” Fraser canted his head, licked his bottom lip and the corner of his mouth twitched up as Ray stared right back at him. “You alright?” 

“Yeah, yes, just need a break.” Ray dropped his axe and looked down at the ground, running a hand through his upright hair. “It’s hot work, chopping wood. You got some water?” he asked rapidly. His eyes dared a brief glance up to Fraser. That impassive Mountie mask was back up and either he wasn't too bothered at catching Ray blatantly ogling him, or he was and he was being polite, choosing to ignore the giant Ray shaped elephant in the yard. 

“Of course, hold on.” Fraser disappeared inside the depot. 

Mentally kicking himself, Ray put his hands on his hips, closed his eyes and took a deep breath through his nose to get himself and his dick back under control. _Well, Kowalski you wanted to be noticed, you idiot._

_****_

Finding his water flask in his work pack, Fraser paused before heading back out into the yard. His skin felt hot and prickly and his throat was tight. His brain still tried to process Ray's behaviour. There had been no mistaking the way those penetrating blue eyes had raked deliberately over his body. Ray hadn't been shy about it either, and Fraser’s heart thumped wildly at the definite hunger he'd seen in those smoky irises. Then that moment in the yard, he'd caught Ray watching him; the man had looked as flustered at being caught out as Fraser had felt being watched. Could Ray actually want him? Had he been flirting with him? Lacking much basis for comparison, Fraser wouldn't, couldn't, act on it. But the sliver of possibility embedded itself into his brain.

Shaking himself out of his reverie of _what if_ s, Fraser headed back out into the yard and found Ray with his head tilted back towards the sky, eyes tightly closed, body tense. The impact of Ray's visible tension on Fraser's body and errant lust-filled thoughts was akin to that of a snow bath. Closing the distance he reached out and lightly brushed Ray's arm, the brief contact tingling through his fingertips. "Here, Ray."

Ray opened his eyes and smiled somewhat bashfully at him, accepting the offered canteen gratefully.

"Thanks." Accepting the flask, Ray put it to his lips and Fraser watched his Adam's apple bob up and down as he swallowed. He licked his lip unconsciously and returned Ray's smile when he handed the flask back. Without thinking he took a swig of water himself, not missing the way Ray's eyes widened and focused intently on his lips. 

Dear Lord. Ray wanted him. The realisation was so strong and sudden that he choked on a mouthful of water. He spluttered and coughed forcefully to clear his throat. Ray let out a noise of concern and slapped his back. Getting it back under control, Fraser held up a hand and straightened up, finally able to breathe. 

"You okay?" Ray peered at him with care and worry. 

He nodded, "Yes," clearing his throat, his voice hoarse, Fraser continued. "Thank you, I inhaled a little water."

"You're telling me. Thought I might have to resuscitate you for a minute there," Ray grinned at him. 

"That would have been embarrassing," Fraser commented, his brow creasing slightly when a mildly hurt expression flickered over Ray's face. "For me," he added quickly. "I didn't mean to imply your skills would be inadequate." 

Ray shrugged nonchalantly and muttered, "No big deal." 

He looked self conscious and uncomfortable for which Fraser felt instant guilt and a driving urge to correct. He rubbed his eyebrow with the back of his thumb. "Choking on a mouthful of water would be embarrassing. I mean, I survived a fall into Chatham Sound when I should have drowned. I would have done if it weren't for my wolf pulling me out. So choking to death on such a small amount of water would be, well silly and...embarrassing…for me..." he trailed off, mortified by his inane babble. 

To his surprise, Ray just blinked at him owlishly and then his eyes narrowed with suspicion. "Did you say, _your wolf_?" 

"Why yes, Ray," Fraser smiled, grateful for the change of topic. 

"You have a wolf?" 

Canting his head, his mouth curved in amusement at Ray's disbelief. "Yes, or rather I should say he chooses to stay with me. He is a wild animal." 

"Hold up." Ray held up his hand and frowned, rubbing his mouth. "You're telling me you have a wild wolf that _chooses_ to hang out with you and it saved your life?" 

"More than once. Dief has been an invaluable companion over the last couple of years." 

"You _named_ it, you named the wolf?" Ray's voice cracked on the question, his hawkish gaze glued to Fraser, his expression frozen between thinking Fraser was joking and wondering if he should be backing slowly away. 

Fraser ducked his gaze with an understanding smile. "Of course. He likes the name. Although, granted, because he is deaf he doesn't always respond, and it can be difficult to get his attention. But even when he is looking at me, he occasionally chooses to ignore me." 

"You realise how crazy you sound, right?" 

Chuckling, Fraser nodded. "I do. I tend not to mention him all that often and he stays away from the city. I don't want to risk him getting shot."

"Oh sure. I mean, a wolf." Ray rubbed the back of his neck. "That's going to scare the bejesus out of folk." 

"Mm, they haven't reacted well in the past," Fraser agreed. "However, he has never attacked or hurt a human." 

"Good, that's, uh, good," Ray answered, still looking dubious. "So, um, do I get to meet him?" 

Eyes darting up to meet Ray's in surprise, Fraser couldn't help but smile. "You'd like to?"

"Sure, he's your… companion, why not?" 

Ray's grin was infectious and Fraser felt like his chest would burst at the man's casual acceptance. "Why not, indeed. He stays at my cabin -- quite a way out of town, but easy to reach on horseback or by dog sled in winter." 

"Great, let's do it." Ray rubbed his hands together eagerly. 

"Ah, now? It's just, I do have to finish chopping the wood and I'm not due to return to my cabin until later this evening." 

"Well, all right, wood chopping first." Ray stripped off his shirt, revealing a toned, wiry physique that Fraser itched to caress all over. He picked up his axe. "Sooner we get done, sooner I can meet your wolf," he grinned suggestively, his eyes tracking Fraser's gaze. Turnabout was fair play after all. 

Forcing himself to raise his eyes and keep them fixed on Ray's out of an ingrained sense of propriety, Fraser nodded and cleared his throat. "Right you are," he stated, wrenching his gaze from the arousing, half-naked sight in front of him before he embarrassed himself further. Returning to his stump, he picked up his axe and glanced sideways at Ray, feeling abruptly and unexpectedly bold. "Would you care to get something to eat with me after we're done, Ray? Um, before we go to visit Dief?" 

Eyes sweeping up to study his face, a pleased grin spread across Ray's lips and he dipped his head slightly. "Yeah, Fraser, I'd like that."

"Good," he replied quickly, his heart hammering. They'd eaten together before, many times now, given that they kept finding reasons to run into each other almost every day since Ray's arrival. Nevertheless, this time felt more significant somehow... as though something were shifting between them. 

"Alright then," Ray threw him a subtle wink and the words that followed had Fraser momentarily dizzy with delight. "It's a date." 

****

Later that day, Ray was on horseback trotting gently alongside Fraser. They’d left the city behind a short while ago and he took in the surrounding countryside. “You know, when you get out of the city, it’s really beautiful up here,” he commented.

They followed a dirt trail along the wide river, peppered with pink flowers and grasses. Ray admired the mountains surrounding the valley. They were tall, covered in dark green trees that gave way to jagged rock. The sun glinted golden on the snow caps at the top. “I’ve travelled a lot, you know. But I’ve not seen anywhere quite as wild as here.” He cast a small smile at Fraser, who hummed thoughtfully. 

“It certainly is remote this far north. The further north you go, the less of man’s impact you see, and the wilder it seems. You should visit the Northwest Territories sometime, Ray. There is truly nowhere else like it.” 

Hearing the wistful tone, Ray’s eyes slid down to his horse. “You miss it?” 

He glanced up to see Fraser give him a funny look. He cocked his head and sighed. “Turnbull mentioned you were from up north when we first met,” he explained. “Said you came here in ‘96.”

“Turnbull has a propensity to gossip. It is a bad habit.” 

Ray winced and focused on the reins he held loosely in his hands. “He was just excited. Don’t be mad at him. I was the one asking all the questions.”

“You were?”

Giving Fraser a one-shouldered shrug, Ray let out a breathy laugh. “Yeah, I wanted to know all about the Mounties; we don’t have cops like you guys in the US, and, um, I wanted to know about…” he cleared his throat and kept his eyes fixed on his horse’s mane. 

“About?” Fraser prompted gently. 

“Well, about you,” Ray admitted rapidly, his cheeks burning at the admission. 

“Me?” 

Ray could hear the surprise in Fraser’s voice but didn’t dare look up, in case of the unpleasant surprise that he’d entirely misread their situation and almost every interaction they’d had since he got to Dawson. Hell, he’d met with Fraser every day for almost two months, using whatever dumb reasons he could think of -- and he was almost certain he wasn’t the only one who'd done so. “Yeah… you seemed, you know, polite…” He closed his eyes, frustrated at his inadequate articulation. 

“You wanted to know more about me because I was… polite?” 

“Not just polite, not just that.” Ray bit his lip. “You… you got my attention… I’m a curious guy…” 

“Ah.” 

Gaze snapping up to glare at Fraser, Ray frowned. “‘Ah’? What does ‘ah’ mean?”

Fraser’s tongue swept over his lower lip and he cricked his neck, avoiding Ray’s scrutiny. “Just that you, uh... you got my attention too, Ray.” 

“I did?” Ray couldn’t have stopped his grin if he’d tried. 

Sparing Ray a bashful glance, Fraser huffed a soft timid chuckle. “You did. I have to admit to a certain degree of, um, jealousy when Constable Turnbull expressed an interest in getting to know you better.” 

“Hang on, what?” Ray snorted a laugh. “Turnbull was interested in me?” 

“It did appear that way, yes.” Fraser still refused to look at Ray, his cheeks now positively rosy. 

“Damn, I thought he was just being a fan, you know? He kept trying to get me to go for a drink with him but, um, I kept putting him off. Was too distracted thinking up reasons to hang out with you.” 

At that Fraser’s eyes finally met Ray’s and they both laughed shyly. 

“So you were jealous, huh?” 

“Well, I’m not proud of it, Ray.”

Snickering softly, Ray shook his head in mild disbelief. “I can’t believe you thought Turnbull stood more of a chance than you.”

“It would have been arrogant of me to presume otherwise,” Fraser regarded Ray intently. 

“Come on, Fraser have you seen you?” 

Frowning in confusion, Fraser shook his head slightly. “I don’t understand, Ray.”

“Fraser, you’re an attractive guy, you know that, right?”

“Well I--” Fraser stiffened in his saddle and opened his mouth to continue only for Ray to interrupt him. 

“I just mean, that if anyone thought he didn’t have a chance of getting to know somebody, it was me. Come on look at me, I weigh nothing and have hair the colour of straw that looks like I’ve been struck by lightning,” he snorted a laugh but stopped when he caught Fraser’s look of consternation directed at him. “What?”

“I just disagree with your self-assessment, Ray. I happen to think you’re quite attractive.” 

Warmth spread through his chest at that and Ray for once didn’t have a witty come-back or a smart-ass remark. “You don’t have to say that…” he mumbled awkwardly. 

“Why not, Ray, it’s the truth.” Fraser stated matter-of-factly. “We’re nearly there,” he added before Ray could argue the point. 

Ray looked up and followed Fraser’s gaze, his eyes falling on a modest cabin in the distance. Part way up a slope, it nestled in a clearing between towering trees partially shielding it from view. It looked out upon the river and the rest of the valley. “Wow, that’s a nice place.”

Cocking his head a little, Fraser smiled. “It’s smaller than my cabin up north but it has served me well for the last two years.”

“Must be nice to have a place to escape to.”

“You have no idea,” came the melancholic reply.

****

A short while later, Ray dismounted and took a long look at the cosy looking cabin. He could hear dogs yapping in a nearby shed and shook his head. “You telling me you built this?” he asked in amazement. 

“Of course.” Fraser tied up their horses and gave them some oats to eat, then vanished into the shed to a cacophony of happy barking. He reappeared and smiled brightly at Ray, looking more relaxed than Ray had seen down in Dawson.

“That’s, uh, wow, can't believe you built all this,” Ray marvelled. “So where’s the wolf?”

“Oh he’ll be here,” Fraser assured. “Would you like a drink?” 

Ray followed Fraser up to the steps of his cabin. “Sure, what do you have?” 

“I don’t usually have guests, so your options are tea or coffee,” Fraser glanced over his shoulder apologetically. 

“Coffee’s good.” 

“Excellent,” Fraser led the way inside and hung up his tunic. “If you’ll excuse me a moment, I need to change my shirt.” 

Giving him a nod and a wave, Ray looked curiously around the cabin. It was small, sparsely decorated with just a couple of small photographs propped up against a stack of books on a shelf. Ray peered at the images, one of two adults dressed in furs with a young boy standing between them and another of a proud looking older Mountie in all his regalia. They were likely Fraser's parents Ray mused as he moved slowly around the room. 

He spied a metal bathtub in one corner and a small table and two chairs near to the wood stove. Beside it was a larger table with various dried food stores neatly placed on its surface. In the corner, under an overhang was a comfortable looking bed tucked away and neatly made. It was covered with several soft blankets, Ray noted silently, brushing his fingers over the fabric as he passed. Fraser had disappeared into a side room, which Ray assumed was some kind of closet. A door at the back probably led to the outhouse. 

“Please make yourself comfortable, Ray,” came Fraser’s disembodied voice. Ray sat on one of the chairs, impressed with the labour that Fraser must have put into building the place. 

“It’s a nice place, Frase. You’re real handy with wood.” 

“It’s a matter of life and death in the Yukon, Ray,” Fraser appeared and smiled, looking - if it were possible - more eye catching in a red flannel shirt and dark trousers. 

Ray watched him as he set about making the coffee and jumped when he heard what sounded like vicious scratching at the door. “The hell is that?” 

“Oh, that must be Dief,” Fraser said simply and opened the door. 

Ray was out of his chair like a shot when a large white wolf bounded into the cabin, barking madly. He jumped up at Ray and knocked him on his ass. “Fraser!” he yelped nervously. The animal was huge! He could take his head off in one bite! It was no dog, that was for sure. 

“Dief, no.” Fraser crouched down and took hold of the wolf’s snout gently. “Off.” 

Dief whined and licked Ray’s face twice before shuffling off and going to lie down in front of the fire that Fraser had gotten started. 

“Augh, that’s disgusting,” Ray wiped at his face and accepted Fraser’s hand. He was hauled to his feet easily and gasped when it brought him chest to chest with Fraser. “Thanks,” he breathed out. 

“He means well,” Fraser explained, his voice gruff, his breath catching. 

“Not gonna eat me is he?” Ray quipped with a grin. 

Giving a short shake of his head, Fraser didn’t laugh and seemed frozen to the spot. “No, Ray.” 

The air was heavy in the cabin and Ray licked his lips, daring to lean a little closer when Fraser's eyes dropped down to his mouth. The stove top kettle shrilly whistled, and they both nearly jumped out of their skins. 

“The coffee, sorry.” Fraser pulled away and busied himself with the pot and the drinks, his back to Ray. 

Rubbing his hands over his face, Ray let out a long sigh, steadying himself. His body tingled where it had been in contact with Fraser’s. He adjusted his trousers so he was a little more comfortable and chewed on his lip in frustration. This was ridiculous. When Fraser turned around, two steaming cups in hand, their eyes locked. 

“To hell with it,” Ray uttered. He reached out and took both cups, turning to place them on the small table. Spinning back round to Fraser, he cupped the man’s face with both hands and pressed their lips together in a gentle undemanding kiss. He felt Fraser stiffen and let his lips linger regardless before pulling back slightly. He waited for a second, searching Fraser's face, only to find hopeful eyes and flushed cheeks. With a soft smile Ray leaned in to kiss him again. This time Fraser met him halfway, his mouth yielding to Ray's and Ray moaned quietly over Fraser’s lips, relishing their softness. After a few seconds of slow tentative kisses, Fraser made a low hungry noise deep in his throat and his fingers curled into Ray’s waist. 

Ray smiled against his lips and pulled away slightly, his smile widening when Fraser let out a small sound of protest. “You okay?” 

“Ray…” 

His growled out name was the only warning Ray got before he was grabbed, spun around and pushed up against the table beside the stove. Fraser claimed his mouth, his hot slick tongue demanding entrance which Ray gladly granted, groaning into it. His hands rose to grab Fraser’s hair and he curled a leg about him as Fraser’s arms wrapped around him tightly, his large hands pushing under Ray’s shirt and caressing his back. 

When Fraser broke the kiss to lick a long stripe up his neck, Ray whimpered, gasping for air as Fraser’s hands explored every part of his body he could touch. “Oh God, Fraser…” 

Fraser only grunted his agreement as he tongued the hollow where Ray's throat met his chest and Ray’s head tilted back with a desperate moan. “Stop, stop stop,” he panted. 

Fraser stopped immediately, his hands stilling on Ray’s body, his forehead resting on Ray’s shoulder, his breathing laboured. “Sorry,” he murmured. “Too fast.” 

Shaking his head, Ray kept his arms curled around Fraser. He buried his hands under his shirt, preventing Fraser from pulling away, as his racing heart slowly calmed down. “It’s great, real great. Just…" His fingers caressed the smooth firm muscles of Fraser's back, pulling a low hum from deep in Fraser’s chest. "Been a while, that's all.” He tilted his head a little, kissing gently along Fraser’s jaw, relishing the slight roughness of new stubble growth. “You’re, um… more intense than I expected,” he laughed demurely. “Took me by surprise.”

Lifting his head to gaze at Ray, his fingers running through Ray’s hair, Fraser hummed. “Not an unpleasant one, I hope?”

“Oh, not in the least, Fraser.” 

“Good,” came the low purr and Fraser licked his lips. “I would hate to scare you away.”

Ray chuckled and brushed his lips over Fraser’s, sucking his lower lip between his teeth and laving it slowly with his tongue, wresting a lusty groan from Fraser. His breath hitched when Fraser rocked wantonly against him, pushing the obvious bulge of his erection against Ray. Breaking the kiss with a gasp, he murmured against his lips, “I don’t scare that easy, Frase.” 

A bright smile spread over Fraser’s face when their lips parted and their gazes locked for a long few moments. Ray couldn’t help but press gentle kisses against those inviting swollen lips. “Fraser, I--”

“--Ben…”

Ray paused at the meek interruption and blinked. “Huh?”

“If we’re going to be intimate,” Fraser explained shyly, lowering his eyes. “I would prefer it if you would call me Ben or Benton.” He looked up hesitantly from beneath his dark lashes. 

Nodding, his hand coming up to cup Fraser’s -- no, Ben’s -- cheek, Ray smiled unabashed and stroked Ben’s parted lips with his thumb. “Ben,” he murmured fondly. The resulting glow shining in those sky blue eyes melted Ray’s heart and he dipped his head for another kiss. This one was long, slow, and tender, savouring the taste of Ben, the softness of his slightly chapped lips and the warmth of his mouth as their tongues explored and slid languidly over one another. 

They had all the time in the world and Ray had no intention of rushing such an irresistible opportunity. He wanted to experience all of Ben, to take pleasure in learning every part of him that Ben would allow. He wanted it to last and for them both to relish their time together. Then he wanted to do it again and again. 

Ben was the first to break their kiss this time and his eyes twinkled mischievously at Ray as he pressed a teasing kiss to his nose. “The coffee’s getting cold.” 

Ray barked out a laugh and threw a mock glare at Ben’s playful grin. “You’re unhinged,” he uttered, trying to tug Ben back into another kiss, pouting when he resisted. 

“But I made it for you.” 

Ray shook his head and bit his lip at the tease. He curled a fist into the collar of Ben’s under shirt, his other hand grabbing his ass and tugged him flush, so he could deliberately push his groin against Ben’s. Ray smiled seductively at the hitch in his chest and the flutter of Ben's eyelids, those beautiful blue eyes almost black with want. He leaned closer, his lips caressing Ben’s as he spoke. “Ben.”

“Yes, Ray?” 

“Fuck the coffee.” 

“Mmm, I think not,” Ben grinned and swiped his tongue over Ray’s ear, eliciting a desperate moan from deep in Ray’s throat. “Would much rather…" he inhaled sharply and paused. Ray frowned but was instantly distracted as Ben continued to gently lick and nip at his ear lobe, sending shivers all the way down to Ray's toes. He was quiet for so long that Ray almost pulled back to see what the problem was until Ben whispered hoarsely into his ear. "Would seem rather redundant when I have you for that, Ray.” 

“Oh, Jesus,” Ray’s legs went wobbly at the heat in Ben's voice. He slid out from between Ben and the table, tugged at Ben, pulling him along by his shirt, “Ben. Bed, now.” 

“As you wish, Ray,” Ben smiled beatifically at him, his hands divesting Ray of his shirt along the way.

****

The days in Dawson City grew shorter as Fall rolled in. The temperature dropped considerably, especially at night, making life harder and colder.

Ray, however, barely noticed when Fall came to Dawson. Between his job at the newspaper and stealing moments alone with Ben, life was turning out to be pretty damn good. He couldn't stay with Ben in his cabin as it would rouse suspicion and questions from his parents he really didn't want to answer. They wouldn't understand; they never had. His dad was doing alright at the mine too, so Ray kept quiet out of a sense of duty to his family. They deserved the chance for things to go right for them. 

Furthermore, Ben's job as a Mountie would likely be at risk if anyone found out about them. So they'd agreed to keep it secret -- something sweet and precious, away from the judgemental eyes of the world. In spite of this, Ray couldn't recall a time he'd felt more content. 

Sitting at his desk, his fingers paused on his typewriter and his lips twitched into an indulgent smile as he let that realisation wash over him. Closing his eyes, he breathed deeply and felt Ben's hands on his skin, sliding over his stomach. He remembered the feeling of that amazing tongue dipping into his navel and the weight of Ben pressing him into the mattress as he held their hard cocks in his fist. He shivered at the memory of Ben's teeth biting his shoulder before his head was thrown back and he came crying out Ray's name. Letting out a soft sigh, Ray pictured Ben's enraptured gaze down at him and his sweet encouraging kisses as Ray trembled and keened through his own climax. 

The sight of Ben sleeping naked next to him sweaty and debauched, tangled in the sheets was one of Ray's favourite memories. That fond lopsided smile dancing over those red lips when Ray had been caught watching had only made Ray kiss Ben all the more. Ben's laughter as Ray had pounced, hungry for him, still rang in his ears. He could have stayed there in that cabin with Ben forever.

Opening his eyes, Ray licked his lips and shifted in his seat, his dick hot and heavy in response to the sense memories alone. They'd only been able to have sex twice that first time in Ben's cabin. Then Ben had escorted him back to Dawson later in the evening, like the gentleman he was. That had been two weeks ago. 

All their moments since had been stolen -- in the woods, on Ben's patrol, or in the depot’s back room. Muffled moans and rough needy kisses, fumbling in tight spaces, all hands and mouths, frantic and desperate -- it was so, _so_ good. Ray understood the need to be careful, but it left him wanting and he knew Ben felt it too. The heat was never far from Ben's eyes when he looked at Ray, so Ray had come up with an inspired plan.

Finishing his article, he pulled the paper from his typewriter and headed over to the editor's office. "Hey, boss, can I have a minute?" 

"Sure, Kowalski," Macpherson waved him in. "Hey, nice work on the NWMP piece you did the other week. Frobisher was pleased. It apparently got some bigwig from Ottawa to check them out for their good work." 

"Nice, glad to hear it." He put his paper down on the desk. "Here's the article you wanted about that new railroad they're building." 

Macpherson eyed him shrewdly, "You got that look, Kowalski."

"What look?" he asked innocently. 

"Go on, what's your idea this time? And the answer is still no on letting you publish a dramatised fictional serial about travelling to the Yukon in search of gold and finding something better. I mean what the hell is better than gold?" 

Ray snickered along with Macpherson. "No, sir, it's not about that. I wanted to travel up to the mine. Stay up there for a week or two maybe, interview the miners, get a couple of photos. The mine's producing a bit of gold recently, since they found that new vein. Thought it might be of interest." 

Putting his pencil to his lips, Macpherson made a thoughtful face. "That's a good idea, but where would you stay? Autumn doesn't last long here, you know? We're already in late September and winter is just around the corner." 

"No worries about that, boss. I can sort it out. Corporal Fraser has been teaching me all about preparing for your freakish Canadian winters." 

Macpherson snorted a laugh. "Well, you certainly won't find a better teacher." He grinned at Ray. "Alright, go. Make sure you don't die of hypothermia or something equally as stupid. You get three weeks and if I like it, you might just get a shot at the front page." 

Ray grinned widely, "Really? Wow, thanks, I won't let you down." 

"See that you don't." 

Bouncing out of the office, Ray whistled cheerfully to himself. He grabbed his coat and packed a large bag with his writing materials and the smallest camera the newspaper owned. It was still pretty hefty. Smiling to himself for his genius, he couldn't wait to tell Ben all about his brilliant idea. 

****

Fraser fought the urge to jump out of his seat and string Turnbull up by his lanyard when Ray showed up at the depot. He discreetly watched the man fawn over Ray, who handled the attention with grace and decorum and a gentle but obvious brush off, that made Fraser flush despite himself. That Ray wanted him and nobody else, had slept with _him_ , still felt too good to be true. 

Still, he felt mildly guilty when Turnbull looked vaguely wistfully at Ray -- as he always did when Ray perched on Fraser's desk and grinned at him. 

"I need your help, Fraser," he declared cheerfully. 

"With what, Ray?" Fraser asked, raising an eyebrow. 

"I am going to write an article on the gold mine. Put you guys on the map for good, so to speak."

"You are?" Turnbull butted in excitedly. "Oh, isn't that exciting, Sir?" 

Fraser inclined his head slightly and gazed at Ray quizzically. "Why do you need my help with that?" 

"I'll be staying out near the mine, for about three weeks. Macpherson told me there wasn't anybody else better in Dawson to teach me about wilderness survival, than you." He threw a daring wink and a suggestive grin at Fraser.

"Oh." Fraser ran a finger along his collar and cleared his throat. "Oh, I _see_." The plan was remarkably brilliant, for all its simplicity.

"Three weeks out there, seeing how those brave men risk their lives for fortune and glory," Turnbull gushed. "You need to be careful of the elements, Ray, it's getting colder now. Why, Corporal Fraser has a cabin out that way. Perhaps he will let you borrow it?" 

Fraser stared and blinked at the man, dumbfounded.

"Does he now?" Ray drawled, clearly enjoying himself. Both men turned to grin at Fraser who cracked his jaw and licked his lip. 

"I would appreciate you not volunteering my home, Turnbull," he chided gently. "But yes, Ray," he viciously suppressed the smile that tugged at his lips when Ray waggled his eyebrows. "You can borrow my cabin as long as you agree to feed my dogs when I'm on duty." 

"You got it, Fraser." 

Fraser couldn't help but smile at Ray's blinding grin; He was practically radiant with happiness. 

"You, Sir, are a good friend," Turnbull declared graciously. 

"That he is, Renfield," Ray agreed wholeheartedly, his lightning sharp eyes caressing Fraser’s face, eliciting a prickle of heat Fraser knew would show in his pale cheeks. 

He tore his gaze away, tamping down the rush of arousal rippling through him. He shook his head at Ray's ingenuity. While surprised by the man's plan, it certainly wasn't unwelcome. Rather, it was gratifying to know he was so desired by Ray. The thought made his stomach flip flop as he caught the man's gaze. Fraser swallowed when Ray's storm blue eyes flashed at him with unspoken lascivious intent. Suddenly it was harder to breathe. He cleared his throat again. "If you allow me to finish my duty, Ray, I can meet you and take you up to the cabin later." 

"That would be great. I'll tell my dad we're going to be hanging out together at the mine, he'll be thrilled. I'll meet you at Welsh's when you're done." Rapping his knuckles on his desk, Ray slid off and strolled to the door.

Fraser nodded. Ray's bright, mischievous smile over his shoulder as he left sent his heart into wild palpitations. Against his better judgement, he was beginning to have very real and frighteningly intense feelings for Ray Kowalski. They'd known each other all of two months, and only become intimate in the past two weeks! Was he unhinged? Had he learned nothing from his past mistakes? Additionally, Ray was American. He wouldn't stay up in the Yukon, not for Fraser. In spite of all his rationality, Fraser knew his heart would be broken again because he was already falling for him. 

****

Drumming his fingers on the bar, Ray waited with growing nervous energy. He'd packed a bag and loaded up his horse after speaking with his dad. His dad was at least happy that Ray was taking an interest in the mine and seemed pleased they would be spending more time together, but hadn’t liked the thought of Fraser helping him out. The moment he’d mentioned Fraser, his Dad’s face had darkened and Ray had changed tack immediately, avoiding the argument he had seen brewing in his dad’s eyes. Their relationship had been strained for a few years now. It had gotten better when he and Stella had started courting but there was still tension between them. 

Ray couldn't tell his dad where he would be staying; that would lead to a fight. And so he'd lied. Told him he had borrowed some camping gear from Macpherson and Fraser was just going to show him the ropes and best spots to camp. He felt ill at ease lying to his dad, but Damian Kowalski would never understand his relationship with Ben. No, Ray had learned that lesson. He nursed his beer and stared down at it with a sigh.

"You look like a man with a lot on his mind." 

Ray flicked his gaze up at the gruff voice and pouted a little in thought. Swallowing a mouthful of beer he shrugged nonchalantly at Welsh who peered down at him from beneath furrowed brows. 

"Don't want to talk about it huh?" 

"Not much to say about it," Ray huffed. "It's complicated."

"Oh, it often is, isn't it?" Welsh surmised, his hands busying themselves cleaning a glass. "You know what I find can help with complicated things?"

"Drinking?" Ray’s mouth curved up at one side humourlessly. 

"Nah, Kowalski. Drink just helps you forget, it doesn't untangle anything. Talking out your shit though, that’s the magic. I can help you do either, but the choice is yours." 

Flashing Welsh a quick grin, appreciating the man's candour, Ray tapped impatiently on the smooth wood of the bar, wondering what was taking Fraser so long. "I lied." 

"That's not a crime. Everybody lies," Welsh replied casually. 

"I know. I know that," Ray swallowed another mouthful of beer and grimaced. He'd been so excited about his plan and now he just had a sour taste in his mouth. "But it was to somebody important, someone I shouldn't need to lie to." 

"Why do you feel the need to lie?" 

Rubbing his temples, Ray closed his eyes tightly. "It's complicated." He rested his head on the bar, kneading at his temples.

"So you keep saying." Welsh shifted, and placed his hands on the bar. "Evening, Corporal, let me guess, tea?" 

Ray stilled and his eyes flew open. He turned his head to peer up at Fraser as he placed his Stetson on the bar beside him and his heart thumped a little faster and harder at the sight of him. All he wanted to do was bury his face against that wool uniform and breathe in deeply. Fraser always smelled good.

"Thank you, that would be nice." Fraser answered politely. "Hello, Ray." 

"Hey, Fraser." Pushing himself to sit upright, Ray couldn't keep the faint smile off his face as he regarded Fraser fondly. 

Peering at him a little more closely, Fraser's brows furrowed. "Ray, are you alright?" 

At the gentle question, Ray's face fell. He pushed the beer away and turned to get off his stool, his gut rippling with tension. "Can we just go?" he muttered, focusing at a point on Fraser's shoulder. 

"Ray, what's happened?" 

"Fraser, please," Ray put a hand on his shoulder. "I'll tell you later. I just want to go up now. Will you take me, please?" He swallowed thickly, avoiding Fraser's concerned eyes. 

"Alright, Ray." Picking up his Stetson, Fraser apologised to Welsh quietly, who just gave him an understanding nod and a pat on the arm before he went to serve someone else. Then, Fraser led the way to the exit, Ray following behind him, eyes on Fraser's back. He was going to have to tell Fraser everything and felt sick at the thought. _So much for my brilliant plan,_ he thought sullenly. 

****

Ben stayed quiet all the way to his cabin and when Ray chanced a furtive glance at him, all he saw was a practised neutral expression. Ray was still learning about this man, and Benton Fraser was a difficult man to read emotionally -- but Ray had figured out enough to know he was worrying. 

He'd tried to reassure him that everything was alright but Ben had just eyed him blankly and then given him that small smile of acknowledgement that he gave to everyone. Ray called it his Mountie smile. Disarming, yet letting you know that you have his attention and he's listening. Completely devoid of depth or any warmth because Ray knew now what warmth looked like on Ben's face. He glowed with it. There was no hiding it when Ben felt happy and relaxed. It shone from his eyes, his smile and every fucking pore. It was beautiful. 

Ray sighed. Lying to Ben was not an option, even if he might lose him as a result. The twist in his stomach, that gut instinct, told him he would definitely lose Ben if he lied now. That was the last thing he wanted. 

"We're here, Ray."

Ben's voice pulled Ray out of those dark thoughts and he dismounted. Gathering up his gear, he left Ben to tie up the horses and trudged up to the cabin. 

"The door's unlocked, Ray, make yourself at home." Ben called out after him. "I'll be in after I've fed the dogs. Don't let Dief startle you."

Ray gave him an acknowledging wave and ventured inside. At least Ben still wanted him there. So he hadn't messed things up too terribly, yet. 

Dief was up and circling Ray with happy yips as he entered and Ray huffed a laugh when the wolf licked him. 

"Glad you love me," he grinned at the animal. Dief woofed softly and then darted out the door. Ray set about lighting the lanterns and starting up the fire. He also put on a kettle of water to boil on the stove top. Then he picked up his bags and moved them closer to the bed area before taking off his coat and boots. He wanted to make it clear that he wanted to be there, wanted to stay. "Do you want tea?" he asked with a small smile when Ben entered the cabin. 

"That would be lovely, thank you kindly, Ray." 

Their eyes met briefly before Ben went to get changed. He wasn't displaying quite the impassive mask he had been on the way up, there but he was guarded and uncertain and it made Ray feel awful to have caused it. Finishing the tea and his coffee he set them down on the table and waited with a sigh. 

"Have you eaten?" 

Ray looked up at Ben's question. "Yeah, my mom fed me before I left." 

Nodding, Ben sat down opposite Ray and took a sip of tea. "It's good tea, Ray." 

Shit, this was awkward and stilted and Ray hated himself. He rubbed his face with both hands. "I lied to my dad," he burst out. "About where I'm staying. I told him I was camping and that I'd borrowed some gear from Macpherson. Told him you were going to help me set up and pick the best place but even the mention of you being here pissed him off, so I had to lie." He met Ben’s gaze then. "I'm sorry."

"I presume you did this to wisely preserve the secrecy of our liaison?" 

Ray nodded and leaned on the table, reaching a hand across it to brush his fingers over Ben's. "Partly." 

Without prompting, Ben turned his hand over and gently held Ray's, his thumb caressing his knuckles slowly. "Is the other part the thing you wanted to talk to me about?" 

Lowering his gaze and scrunching up his nose a little, Ray nodded mutely. "So uh…You're not the first guy that I, um, that I've been with." 

"I didn't think for a second that I was," Ben answered plainly. 

Ray made a face at that. "Why not? I never said anything."

A fleeting smile tugged at Ben's lips and he dipped his head a little, his fingers curling a little more tightly around Ray's hand. "You are quite adept at pleasuring me. I merely assumed that your, ah, skills came from previous experience." 

Ray smiled a little and waggled his head. "Yeah, that's fair. It's not a lot though, it was just the one," he added hurriedly. 

Ben gave Ray a mildly pinched look. "Ray, I had no expectations of being your only relationship. I am aware you have been engaged. And given your forward approach to your attraction to me, it was only natural to assume that that confidence came from somewhere." He canted his head and frowned. "Has this been worrying you? It truly doesn’t matter to me who is in your past, Ray, unless they affect your present. I hope you would feel the same regarding anybody from my past." 

"Of course," Ray replied. "But it's not so much the relationship that I need to tell you about. It's how I ended it and why I am lying to my dad now." 

"Ah. I see." 

Taking a deep breath, Ray squeezed Ben’s hand and stared at it resolutely. _Here goes nothing_. “Before Stella, I met someone. John. He was actually a guy I knew from high school but he left Chicago and we didn’t bump into each other again until I was 25. We hit it off straight away and it was great. I don't make friends easily and he made me feel good. Then, one night, he kissed me." Ray smiled wistfully and closed his eyes, letting out a soft sigh. "We'd had a couple of drinks but we were sober enough to know what we were doing and one thing led to another and then it happened again and…" he trailed off weakly. 

"You had a relationship," Ben continued gently. 

"Yeah. We did and it lasted a while. Almost two years. I don't know if it was love or what but when I was with him, I felt like myself, I was comfortable in my own skin for the first time in my whole life." 

Ben laid his other hand over Ray's, held it between both of his, and waited for him to gather his thoughts. 

"But my dad found out," Ray stated, his voice thick with emotion. "I don't know how, but it all blew up. He followed me one night and caught us and he attacked us. He was so angry, I thought he was going to kill us..." Rubbing his face, Ray blinked back tears at the memory. "When we'd got him to calm down he gave me a choice." Ray's voice broke and his face screwed up in pain, his trembling hand gripping Ben's tightly. "John or my family, my reputation. I'd just got my job at the Tribune and I… I know he was scared for me and he thought he was looking out for me but he was going to expose me if I chose John and being um… an outed sodomite would have ruined me." 

Frowning deeply at the sound of Ray's pain, Ben averted his gaze. Giving him a few moments, his thumb continued to stroke his hand. 

"If I chose John I was done. So was John. If I chose my family and my career, I wasn't to speak of it ever again or see John…" A tear slipped down Ray's cheek and he wiped it away roughly. "I cared about John but… I wasn’t… so I chose my life. I still…" Ray sucked in a ragged breath. "I can still see the look on John's face--" his words broke up into sobs and he shook his head. 

"Oh, Ray," Ben slipped off his chair and knelt in front of Ray, wrapping him into a tight embrace, his hand stroking up and down his back as he wept bitterly. 

"I broke him, Ben," Ray sobbed into Ben's shoulder between hitched breaths. "I'll never forget the look on his face. I told myself I was doing it for him so he could have a life still. God, I'm such a coward… and I'm still lying. Not even Stella knew. For so long, I’ve felt just lost, you know, not knowing where I’m going or who I am or what I want." He pulled himself away from Ben and gazed at him, his hand reaching out to caress Ben's cheek. "You deserve better." 

"Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray, no," Ben shook his head and took hold of both Ray's hands. "You had to make an impossible choice and you were so young. Your father put you in that position, made you choose," he looked down at their hands in front of him and lightly kissed the palms of Ray's hands. "Society being what it is, you made the only choice you could. If you'd have revealed yourselves as homosexuals, both of your lives would have been over in Chicago. Your dad would have made sure of that in exposing you."

Ray managed to get his breathing back under control and he gazed at Ben in awe. "You don't… you don't hate me?" he whispered. 

"Lord, no, Ray. I would like to be alone in a room with your father for a moment or two -- but you, I could never hate," Ben replied firmly. "I can only imagine how difficult that situation must have been." 

"Dad, he… he cares in his way, he just doesn't understand, doesn't want me to live a life where I'll suffer because of who I love." Ray sniffed and looked at their hands. "I never saw John again… and I'm still lying to my dad but it's been good to have him in my life again. I don't want to lose that. If he found out though… he could destroy your life here, Ben. I'm not sure I could live with that, but I don't want to stop seeing you." 

"Nor I you, Ray," Ben replied earnestly. "It is a bridge to be crossed should we reach it," he gave Ray a small hopeful smile. "I would much rather enjoy the time we do have together, than worry about what ifs."

"It's a risk… especially for you, Ben," Ray insisted. "This is your life we're talking about here."

"Yes, it is, and as such it is my decision as to whether it is a risk worth taking." Cupping Ray's cheek, brushing his thumb over Ray's lips, Ben gazed affectionately at him. "You are worth the risk, Ray."

Ray felt his heart swell at those words. "You can't mean that," he breathed out, eyes wide with shock. 

"I do, Ray. You make me feel things I thought I'd never, or wouldn't want to, feel again."

Squinting inquisitively at Ben, Ray tilted his head slightly to the side. "Wouldn't want to… Again?" 

Mouth twisting into a sad almost smile, Ben held Ray's gaze. "You're not the only one carrying pain of the past, Ray." 

"You gonna tell me yours?"

Lowering his eyes, Ben let out a soft sigh. "If you ask it of me." 

"Okay…" Ray murmured. "Might make me feel better about all this risk you want to take for me," he offered a hopeful if faint grin. "But really, you don't have to, not if you don't want to. I’ll understand."

Ben nodded, pushed himself to standing and tugged Ray to his feet. "Fair is fair. Get ready for bed. We'll be more comfortable there and warmer."

"Then you'll tell me?" 

"Yes, Ray." Ben leaned into Ray's space and kissed him softly, sighing into the contact. "I'll tell you everything you want to know," he murmured against Ray's lips then kissed him again, deep and slow, a kiss filled with promise. "I want you to know, it doesn't change how I feel about you, Ray and I'm very glad that you felt you could tell me." 

"You're the only one I've told. Not even Stella knows about that, even if she might know or suspect about me…" Ray let Ben guide him to the bed and simply watched him as he stripped him slowly. There was nothing sexual in Ben's actions. It was an act of caring, of comfort, and made Ray feel safe. He studied Ben's face and saw the focus and tenderness he had for him; it was humbling. 

When Ben looked up from where he'd crouched down to remove Ray's trousers, his face broke into a warm smile, his eyes bluer than Ray had yet seen. Ray knew then he could truly love this man, was falling hard for him -- and that terrifying thought took his breath away. 

****

Ben’s bed was warm and comfortable not unlike Ben, Ray thought to himself as he snuggled close to that firm body beside him. Getting to lie together, skin on skin, legs entwined, made Ray feel complete in ways he’d forgotten he could. Once Ben got into bed, he just held Ray in his arms, pressing soft kisses to his hair and face as he gathered his thoughts. 

Ray traced his fingers lightly over Ben’s stomach, earning a breathy laugh as Ben took hold of his hand.

“Tickles.” 

Humming, Ray lifted his head off Ben’s shoulder and gazed down at him. “You don’t have to--” he started only for Ben to silence him with a gentle kiss to his lips. 

“I want to, Ray. This… I want you to know that this is important to me. That I don’t enter into such liaisons lightly.”

“I’d like to think I know you pretty well already, Ben, and I never once thought that about you.”

Sighing softly, Ben looked up at Ray, his blue eyes searching his face for a long moment. “I was in love once,” he whispered. “With a woman. My situation was somewhat the inverse of yours, Ray. I knew of my inclinations towards men and I indulged in relations when I first became a Mountie. My father found out and he was surprisingly tight-lipped about the whole affair but I knew he was embarrassed. He never said anything to anybody else, never made me feel like I was less or to be punished, he simply told me to be careful as hearsay could lead to an ugly end. After that, I decided it was too risky to entertain and so I ignored it. I ignored any attractions I felt... until Victoria.”

Ray rested his head on Ben’s chest and let Ben’s voice wash over him, feeling the beating of his heart and watching the rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He could hear the catch in Ben’s voice as he spoke her name and frowned. 

“She was captivating, and given the rumours about me and my... leanings being an insult to the uniform and a humiliation upon me and my family, I allowed myself to feel for her. Her passion was all consuming and I fell in love. I thought she had fallen in love with me. But there was a darkness inside her. A darkness I saw too late. What I didn't know was, she was a criminal. She had committed a spate of robberies across Canada and she had killed three men. She was on the run from another Mountie, my father. She'd found me, in order to use me to get to him. It ended… badly…” 

Biting his lip when Ben stopped speaking, Ray waited, tightening his arm around him. 

"Eventually, my father caught up to her. She used me against him. I was so blinded by my love and fooled by her lies, I realised her plan too late and was injured. My father shot her but was killed saving my life," Ben let out a ragged huff of air, his voice thick. 

Ray’s breath caught in his throat and his fingers curled into Ben’s side, to lose both the love of his life and his father in the same instant due to his lover's betrayal had to have been devastating. “Oh God, I’m so sorry.” He shifted at the choked off sob Ben uttered and moved up his body, cupping his face and kissing him gently. “Ben… it wasn’t your fault, how could you have known?” he whispered against his lips. "You loved her and thought she loved you…" He rested his forehead against Ben’s and caressed his face, fingers gently wiping away his tears. 

“It was a few years ago but I swore I wouldn’t let anyone…close...” Ben stumbled over the words and squeezed his eyes shut. “Ever again.” He sucked in a deep breath and opened his eyes, fixing his intense gaze on Ray. “And then I met you…” Ben gave him a weak smile and took hold of Ray’s hand, pressing his lips into his palm. 

Ray smiled at that and kissed Ben again, slow and sweet, pouring himself into it. Letting himself feel everything. “Guess we’re both carrying some ghosts, eh?” 

Nodding meekly, Ben’s tongue snaked over his lower lip and he ran his hand through Ray’s hair. “It would seem so, Ray, but… you… you make me feel like I could…” 

Blinking rapidly, Ray nodded and cut off Ben’s words with a kiss, then murmured reassurances against his lips. “I know, Ben, I know… me too.” He let out a soft laugh as Ben wrapped his arms around him and kissed him soundly.

****

After a week and a half of spending his nights at Ben’s cabin, in Ben’s bed, venturing to the mine during the day to be with his father, Ray had grown comfortable. It was a life he could imagine enjoying, wished he could have long term, away from prying eyes and gossiping mouths. Not to mention waking up with Ben was now, by far, his favourite activity. The things that man could do with his tongue made Ray’s toes curl just thinking about it.

Unfortunately, he didn’t get to see Ben much during the day. The Mounties had a high ranking visitor from Ottawa in town, which meant one of the baby Mounties, Callum, had taken over Ben’s regular patrol. Ray missed him but knowing that he would get to see him every evening made the wait worthwhile. Besides, it seemed that Dief had taken a liking to him, and often followed him to the mine. Ben insisted he hadn't asked him to do so, and that Dief was doing it of his own free will. But Ray wouldn't put it past Ben to have the wolf watch out for him even, if he hadn't asked outright. 

Wisely, Dief always stayed out of sight in the forest until Ray was ready to return to the cabin. It was both strangely nice and a little unsettling to have a wolf stalking him, but he didn't complain when he had to make his way back in the dark. 

His relationship with his father had also improved. As Ray interviewed different miners and took photographs, his father explained what they did and took Ray under his wing to show him the mine and to examine the gold panning process by the river. Ray wanted to see the gold vein they’d struck but there had been rain storms every day he’d visited. That morning though, the sun was poking through the clouds and it looked like a promising day to go inside the mine itself.

“Son, you got your helmet today?” 

Ray waved his helmet at his father as he strolled over. “Remembered it this morning.” He peered up into the cloudy sky. “It still looks like it’s going to rain, you sure it’s safe to go deeper into the mine?” 

Damian waved dismissively, and slung a pick-axe over his shoulder, “It’s been raining for four days, it cleared last night, and the sun's been out for a couple of hours now; we’ll be all right. The walls are shored up. We’re going in. Get your helmet on.”

Accepting his Dad’s reassurance and pushing his helmet on his head, Ray grabbed the shovel his dad handed him and picked up the carbide lantern, making sure it was lit. “Alright, lead the way,” he grinned. Following his father who walked along the narrow tracks for the carts, they entered the mine. Ray took one last look at the square of daylight behind him before they marched on into pitch black. 

Their way was lit only by Ray’s lantern and the carbide lamps attached to the helmets of the men in front of them. He swallowed nervously as they trudged further into the dark, the rock close and low all around him, causing them to bend a little as they walked. Ray forced himself to breathe slowly, lifting his scarf over his mouth to reduce how much dust he inhaled. He had never liked close spaces, and an illness as a child meant that the dusty air irritated his lungs, making him cough. It was why he couldn’t have joined his dad in the mine on a permanent basis, but he was glad he could see this side of his dad’s world now. It had certainly cheered his dad up. 

“Here we are, Raymond,” Damian gestured ahead and grinned at his son. “Hold the lantern here, and look, you can see that shinier line in the rock there. It almost looks wet when the light hits it. You see it?” 

“I can see it,” Ray peered at the long line snaking through the darker rock. 

“That’s gold, Son,” Damian grinned wide and proud. 

“Whoa, that’s quite a lot,” Ray whistled as he followed the line deeper into the tunnel. 

“Oh yes, it goes quite deep. Come on.” 

A low rumble vibrating through the earth stopped Ray in his tracks. “Dad, wait,” he held out his hand as he looked up, shielding his eyes as dust and small rocks tumbled down the walls of the tunnel. “What’s that noise?”

“It’s probably just the carts, taking out what we dug up.”

“Is it usually that loud?” Ray looked at his father who turned and met his gaze with a frown. 

Before Damian could reply, the entire world seemed to tip sideways and Ray heard men yelling further down the tunnel. Putting his hand against the wall of the tunnel to steady himself, he felt it shaking beneath his hand and he hollered at his dad as the rumbling turned into a roar and rocks began tumbling around them. “Dad!” 

“Ray!” 

Rushing to his father, Ray grabbed him. “We gotta get out, Dad! The tunnel’s coming down!” 

“The other men, Son, we can’t leave them! Stay close, come on!” 

“Alright, go! Right behind you!” Wincing as rocks bounced around them, Ray ran after his father, trying to keep the lantern shielded from the earth falling all about them. One of the beams securing the tunnel above them suddenly cracked without warning, and Ray leapt for his father as their whole world was plunged into black.

****

Fraser slowed his horse as they approached the depot. He'd been tasked with showing Inspector Dean around Dawson and being his main point of contact. The man was pleasant enough, though a stickler for the regulations and who didn't think much of Dawson. Fraser knew it was impolite to think but he would be glad to see the back of the man at the end of the week. Not just because it meant more time spent with Ray either. Spotting Constable Callum racing towards them on foot, yelling urgently and covered in mud, his stomach lurched unhappily.

"Sir! Corporal Fraser! Sir!"

"What is the problem, Constable," Dean snapped with a scowl, his eyes roving over the mud splattered on the young constable's uniform. “Explain your state of dress immediately.”

"I was… on patrol… my horse… it got spooked…" Callum bent double, his breathing harsh and hard, his words gasped out.

Fraser hopped down from his horse, secured it and grasped the man's shoulders, "Spooked by what?" 

Callum gestured wildly back in the direction he'd come from. "The mine… the rain… Sir…I ran to get help."

Blood pounding in his ears, Fraser gripped the constable's shoulders harder. "Slow down. Callum, what happened?" 

"Mudslide! At the mine!" Callum's frantic eyes met Fraser's as he gripped his uniform urgently. "There's men… inside!"

"Good Lord." Fraser's eyes widened in shock, his mind concentrating on the one man he knew for certain would be at the mine that morning. _Oh God, Ray._ He dashed into the depot, hollering orders as he went. "Ring the bell, Callum!" 

The constable nodded and straightened, grabbing the rope at the entrance of the depot and yanking it hard. The depot emergency bell rang out across the city. 

Inside the depot, Fraser gathered equipment and rallied the other Mounties to load up their horses. "Trembley, go to the FireHouse, we'll need their help. We'll meet them at the mine. Alert Dr. Mort to pack a bag and get himself up there with whomever he needs."

"A mudslide could have caused a collapse," Dean pointed out as he stepped inside the depot, unfazed by the flurry of activity. "The ground will be too unstable to dig them out. You can't risk everyone." 

"There are men in that mine, Sir. We're not abandoning them, not while there's a chance," Fraser declared resolutely. "Turnbull, gather any miners that aren't working, we'll need their expertise."

"Right you are, Sir." Turnbull ran out of the depot, ignoring Dean's weak protests. 

"While Inspector Frobisher is on patrol, I am the ranking officer here, Corporal." 

Fraser straightened and glared icily at the man. "While that is a fact, Sir, those men's lives are my responsibility. Those men have families and loved ones and I will not leave them buried in that mine while there is a chance we can get them out. So you can either remain here, pull rank, and take my badge, or you can help me save those men's lives. Either way, _Sir,_ I'm going to that mine." 

At Dean's shocked gape, Fraser turned his attention to Mackenzie. "Find Frobisher, tell him what's happened, then get any able bodied man to the mine." 

"On it, Sir!" 

Grabbing a shovel and pickaxe, Fraser held one out for Dean, his gaze hard.

Taking it hesitantly, Dean swallowed, "I've never…"

"You'll learn. Let's go." Fraser marched past him and loaded up his horse. 

There was chaos in the city as men were already gearing up and rushing to the mine. Coaxing his horse, Dean following his lead, Fraser broke into a gallop, only now letting himself acknowledge his very real fear for Ray. He felt sick to his stomach, and the thought of losing the man spurred him on. He wouldn't give up until he found him. 

****

Upon arrival, Fraser was aghast at the devastation. Where the entrance to the mine had been, there was now a river of mud and uprooted trees. He stared in dismay at the sight as men from the city started to arrive. The rain had dislodged a side of the ancient landslide, Moosehide Slide that sat on the outskirts of Dawson City and had completely covered the mine all the way to the river. 

"How could anybody have survived?" Dean murmured in horror. 

Fraser ignored him and dismounted as a tall, collected native man; a member of the Hӓn tribe who lived in Moosehide Reserve at the mouth of the Klondike, approached him. Members of his tribe hung back hesitantly as he and Fraser greeted each other soberly. Fraser looked around at the growing crowd of people. “Chief Isaac, we have men trapped inside the mine, you know the land better than us, I would appreciate any help and expertise you have.” 

“We will help.” Chief Isaac gave him a curt nod and looked over his shoulder, giving a beckoning wave of his hand. His tribe approached with shovels and pickaxes of their own, while the women began setting up tents with water, medicines, and provisions. 

Grateful, Fraser clasped Chief Isaac’s arm and got out the map of the mine. Laying it on the ground, he inspected it closely and glanced up when he heard his name being called. 

“Fraser! This is bad, very bad!” Vecchio appeared amidst the crowd of men. “The entrance is completely buried. They could run out of air!”

“How many inside do you think?”

Ray heaved a heavy sigh, “At a guess, considering it’s morning, I’d say thirty five men. At least. But it's been raining, so they may have done a small shift, you know -- to make sure it's safe. So, it could be half that.”

“Ray, mines like this one tend to have a secondary entrance do they not?”

Pointing two fingers at Fraser, Ray nodded his head slowly. “Yeah, this one hasn’t been used since they found the vein this side -- but it’s still there, just boarded up. I helped board it up, in fact.”

“Take a handful of men, enter the mine from there. Chief Isaac, would you send some of your men with them?”

“It is done, Mountie.” 

Giving him a sharp nod of thanks, Fraser looked around. “Turnbull?”

“Here, Sir.”

“Go to my cabin, you know the way, take Tremblay, Callum and one of the wagons, get the uncut logs from my woodshed, we’re going to need them to shore up the entrance when we’ve cleared it.”

“Right you are, Sir.” 

Raising his voice to be heard, Fraser straightened and addressed the crowd. “We need to dig here to uncover the entrance." He pointed at the map. "We need one team digging and one taking away the loose mud and debris so it doesn’t collapse back on us."

“We’ll have to dig across the flow,” Welsh spoke up. “Rather than towards the entrance. It might not look like it but this flow will still move if we give it room. So, we need to cut across the flow and reinforce against the main flow to stop the rest of us getting buried. If we’re not careful we could bring down all of Moosehide on our heads.”

“Understood. Welsh, lead the first team. We’ll work in shifts. Everyone, make sure you stay hydrated. Dr. Mort, do you have everything you need?”

“I’m set up with the Hӓn women, my boy, they can help treat our wounded. We’re ready.” 

“Good, get to work. We only have a few more hours of daylight." Fraser cautioned. "We do not leave until everyone is accounted for.” 

Murmurs of agreement sounded as the men broke off into groups and got to work. Fraser turned to Superintendent Dean who stood next to his horse looking vastly out of his element. “Sir, you’re on the first team, if you’ll follow me.” 

“Benton,” Frobisher’s voice rang out across the valley as he arrived. “What’s the status?”

“We have men buried in the mine. We’ve split into teams to work on digging the entrance in shifts.”

“Good, I’ll coordinate arrival so we don’t add more strain and weight on this flow than we need to." Frobisher took in the shovel Fraser was holding. "You’re on the first team? Don’t the men need you coordinating?” he asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“Sir, I can coordinate as I dig, I trust the men leading the teams. I need to do this… my friend, Ray… Ray Kowalski is in that mine.”

Frobisher narrowed his eyes and frowned at Fraser with concern. “We’ll find them, Benton. Let’s get to work.”

“Right you are, Sir.” 

Fraser dashed off, joining Welsh’s side at the head of the first digging team. He looked up at the darkening clouds worriedly. 

"We don't have time to worry about what might be, Corporal," Welsh said grimly. "Let the heavens do as they may." 

Taking a deep breath at his words, Fraser began to dig. All of his thoughts were of Ray as he offered up silent prayers that he was still alive. That any of them were still alive. 

****

Dean glanced up at Frobisher. “I’ve never… never been in such a crisis...” 

Quirking a thin smile at the younger man, Frobisher patted his shoulder, “Those men are counting on you, son.”

Dean glanced up, gripped his shovel more tightly and gave Frobisher a firm nod. "I see this depot is in good hands, and I'll be letting Ottawa and SuperIntendent Sam Steele know that Dawson City is in good hands," he declared. Frobisher watched him join the digging team and get to work with a mild shake of his head. _City boys._ He thought to himself wryly. _Always with a skewed sense of priority._

****

The men worked hard clearing the mud and debris from the entrance of the gold mine. Tonnes of rock, mud, and forest had been deposited over the land. Still loose and wet due to a light rain hampering their efforts, the dig proceeded slowly. It was a painful several hours before the first shouts of discovery resounded through the camp. 

Joining the rush of men, Fraser pushed his way forward, his heart in his mouth.

Welsh glanced up at him after wiping away the black mud from the unfortunate man’s face. “It’s young Peterson,” he declared somberly. “He’s dead.” 

The men fell quiet, the weight of loss present on all their shoulders. 

Blinking as the incessant rain dripped into his eyes, Fraser’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Take him to the med tent. We keep digging.” 

As the light of day began to fade, Fraser ordered the men to swap shifts so those that had been digging could get some rest and help clear some of the debris. However, he found he couldn’t stop. He had to find Ray, had to know if he was... but couldn’t allow himself to even consider the possibility that he might not have survived. Swallowing down the thick lump of fear that knotted in his throat, he went to check on Vecchio’s team, taking a group of rested men with him to relieve them. 

Arriving at the secondary entrance, he heard the men hollering at each other. “We got some!” 

“Quick, clear the entrance!”

“We got injured!” 

Fraser rushed to help the men lift the injured out of the narrow tunnel and sent Callum back to get Mort or one of his medical team to come help. The shouts from inside the mine were desperately frantic as Vecchio yelled back that he’d found more men alive, but hurt. 

This was the news they’d needed to give them hope to carry on digging into the cold night. Fraser didn’t feel the cold much as he dug but the temperature dropped considerably as the clouds cleared, having finally emptied themselves of rain. Digging by carbide lamps and lanterns, tired men sang quietly as they dug but it wasn’t until the first light of dawn that they made any progress. 

****

Help came from an unexpected source as cries of alarm and fear echoed around the site. Fraser was startled into full consciousness, having dozed momentarily, leaning on the handle of his pickaxe after Frobisher insisted he take a break. 

“Wolf!” Vecchio’s holler drew Fraser into action. “Somebody get me a gun!” 

Fraser sprinted across the site, hands up as he positioned himself between the large animal and the fearful group of men. “It’s alright!” 

“Fraser, it’s a Goddamned wolf!” Vecchio hissed frantically. “Get away from it!”

Constables Mackenzie and Callum raised their shotguns and Dief snarled menacingly, lowering his head, his hackles raised.

“No! Put them down! He won’t attack you!” Turning, Fraser crouched and beckoned Dief closer. “Come on, Dief, it’s alright.” 

The men watched in disbelief as Dief barked twice, ran to Fraser and then back to the mound of earth, scrabbled at the ground, and then looked up at Fraser, his head cocked to one side. 

“Why are you talking to the wolf?” Vecchio’s voice hitched, his eyes wide as he cautiously approached Fraser’s side. “Have you finally lost what’s left of your mind?” 

“He’s my wolf, Ray,” Fraser explained, repeating it loudly so the uneasy men could hear him. “His name is Dief. Wolves have an excellent sense of smell. I think he’s trying to help.”

“Help?”

“He knows Ray’s scent.” 

“How… you know what, I don’t care how, just get him to leave. He’s scaring the men.”

Impatient with the men, Dief half bounded towards Fraser urgently, eliciting several agitated shouts from the crowd. Then he trotted back to the spot, pawing at the ground with his front paws and whining. 

Still wary of the men behind him making any sudden moves, Fraser approached Dief and put a hand on his ruff. “Thank you, Dief." He raised his voice. "We need to dig here, he’s found something.” 

Vecchio kept his eyes fixed on the large animal, now sitting placidly beside Fraser, his tongue lolling. “You sure?” 

“Positive, Ray. Please, grab Welsh and anyone who’s rested. We need to get some of the wood here too, to make a third entry point.” 

“We can trust a wolf now?” 

“ _I_ trust him, Ray. _Please_ ,” Fraser insisted earnestly. 

Dief yipped encouragingly at Vecchio and licked his hand, much to Vecchio’s repugnance. 

“Oh, that’s disgusting,” he wiped his hand on his shirt with a sneer. “All right, all right, getting the men. Just stay with him, Fraser, he’s making the men twitchy.” He ran back to the main site, grumbling about how one just had to make friends with Mounties who talked to wolves. How was this his life?

Picking up one of the shovels, Fraser set to work, Dief helping occasionally, until the men slowly began to gather round and help. Wisely, Dief kept out of the way and yapped at the men as they dug, the rising sun now lighting their way as they struck the side of the mine tunnel and broke through. 

A short while later, Welsh raised the alarm. “We got a couple of live ones here! Need some help shifting the wood and rock!” 

Men rushed to help and Fraser directed the recovery as he jumped into the tunnel with Welsh and lifted a large rock that had partially crushed the tunnel. His breath caught in his throat when he recognised Damian Kowalski’s face, covered in mud and bloodied though it was. Climbing into the ruined tunnel carefully, he patted the man's cheek. “Mr. Kowalski can you hear me?” 

The man groaned and his eyes flickered open. “My son…” Damian wheezed. 

Fraser crouched low and peered beneath a beam of wood and saw another body covering Damian’s. “My God, Ray.” Reaching a trembling hand through the gap he felt for Ray’s pulse and was giddy with relief when he felt it thud strongly beneath his fingertips pressing against cool skin. “They’re alive! We need to lift this wood, they’re pinned!” he commanded.

****

Once Damian and Ray Kowalski had been taken to the medical tent, Fraser continued crawling through the half collapsed tunnel as the men kept digging. He could hear Vecchio directing the group of men at the other entrance and peered through the tunnel when he saw their lamps in the darkness. “There are more men here. I need help getting them out, they’re unconscious.”

“We’re coming to you, Benny, just hang on.” 

The sun was low in the sky by the time they were sure they’d gotten everybody they could out of the mine. Fraser was the last one to exit once he’d done one final check of the tunnels. He wiped the mud and dust from his stinging eyes, and scrubbed a hand through matted hair. Two days it had taken. He was exhausted, sore and filthy but he needed to see if Ray was alright before he could rest. Accepting Welsh’s hand, he climbed out of the pit and didn’t protest when he was shepherded to a seating area around a small campfire, and a hot coffee was thrust into his hands. Somebody draped a blanket over his damp shoulders and Dief loped over to him with a pleased yip, sitting beside him and resting his head on Fraser’s thigh. 

Fraser let his tired eyes close for a few seconds, the cold finally seeping through his wet muddy uniform. He shivered and sipped the hot bitter liquid. He peered up when a weight rested on his shoulder. “Sir…? How bad?” he asked weakly. 

“Not as bad as it could’ve been, Benton,” Frobisher looked around at the men securing the newly dug out tunnels for the mine. “Two days, seventeen men, twelve injured. Five have already been taken to the hospital. We lost five men.” 

Letting his head hang at the sad news, Fraser had no words. He felt Frobisher squeeze his shoulder. 

“Would have been a lot worse without fast action. You did good work here today, Ben. Now you need to go home and get some rest, you’ve been up for two days.”

“Ray Kowalski?” he looked up sharply, pushing himself up to his feet. “Is he?” 

“He’s with Dr. Mort. He was injured saving his father, Benton. He’s going to be fine, his injuries aren’t critical. But he’ll need a hospital to be sure.” Frobisher pointed towards the tented area where Damian could be seen bickering with Barbara, who was trying to get him to stay on the cot.

Letting out a breath he didn’t realise he’d been holding, Fraser deflated, relieved that Ray was all right but still quite worried about his injuries. He knew he wouldn't feel settled until he'd seen him. He got up and wobbled a little on his feet until Frobisher steadied him. 

“Whoa, Son. Don’t make me order you to go home.” 

“I will, Sir, I’ll just be a moment. I’d like to check on Ray.” Frobisher let him go with a shrewd gaze and Fraser made his way over to the medical tent, clutching the now damp blanket around his shoulders. Ignoring Ray’s parents, he weaved between the cots and perched on the edge of Ray’s, frowning at the bandaged gash on his head and the bandages wrapped around his torso and wrist. 

“He likely has a cracked rib, and some severe bruising. He sustained quite a knock to the head and a fractured wrist.” Mort explained kindly as he made his rounds. 

“Will he be alright?” Fraser asked, his gaze focused on Ray’s unconscious face.

“Yes, he’ll make a full recovery as long as he rests.”

“Can I stay until he wakes up?” 

“I’m not sure when that will be, my boy,” Mort looked at Fraser and sighed. “But of course, there is a spare cot over there,” he pointed to the far side of the tent. “Should you need it.” 

“Thank you kindly.” Giving Mort a thin smile, Fraser returned his attention back to Ray and Mort ambled off to treat another of the injured men. 

Fraser stayed a while until Ray finally stirred and groaned hoarsely. “Ray, try not to move too much,” he urged, leaning over him, placing his hand carefully flat against his chest. 

“Ben?” 

“I’m here, Ray.”

“So good… to hear your voice…” Ray flashed a weak grin at him and reached out to grip Fraser’s hand feebly. “Did you get the driver… of that wagon… that ran me over?” he huffed a laugh and grimaced at the pain. "Thought I was a goner… for a minute there." 

“Don’t scare me like that again,” Fraser scolded with a plaintive frown, squeezing Ray’s hand gently. 

“M’sorry, Ben…” Ray’s blue eyes shimmered up at him with unspoken feeling. “Just gonna… stay in your... bed from now on,” he licked his chapped bloody lips and managed a cheeky smile.

“That may be for the best,” Fraser quipped warmly, resisting the impulse to kiss that smile. “At least there, I can keep an eye on you," he added softly. "You’re very lucky to be alive, Ray."

“He saved my life.”

Dropping Ray’s hand, Fraser straightened and stood up quickly at the gruff voice. He stared at Damian with wide eyes as he limped over to them. 

“How are you doin’, Son?” 

“Dad? You okay?” Ray asked roughly, his eyes barely staying open. 

“I am thanks to you.” 

“Greatness…” Ray managed a faint smile. “I think… I’ll sleep some more…” 

“You do that, Son. I’ll be right here. You just get better.” 

Standing awkwardly to one side, Fraser tensed when Damian’s attention fell on him once Ray had fallen back asleep. “I owe you a thanks for getting us out of there, Corporal.” 

“No thanks are necessary, Sir.” 

“You saved our lives, I’m grateful,” Damian continued firmly, his eyes not meeting Fraser’s. He frowned deeply when Dief trotted over and nosed Ray’s ear affectionately, then glanced up at Fraser with a querying whine. “I know where he’s been staying.” 

The quietly uttered statement was so unexpected, Fraser wasn’t sure he’d heard correctly. Its implications caused the blood in Fraser’s veins to freeze and he stared at Damian who looked steadfastly at Fraser’s feet, a deep frown furrowing his brow. “And I thank you, Corporal, for looking out for my Ray. But now you need to let my son rest and get back to his life.” 

There was no misinterpreting that message. Fraser opened and then closed his mouth, his heart racing. His eyes darted to Ray and back to Damian helplessly as the older man finally met his gaze. 

“A father must protect his son from those who would hurt him or make his life harder. He deserves better.”

At a loss, and not wanting to make Ray’s life any more difficult, Fraser stiffened to parade rest almost automatically under Damian’s hard scrutiny. He cracked his neck once sharply and gestured for Dief. He cast another brief longing glance at Ray before meeting Damian’s implacable glare. “Understood.” Hating that his voice broke over the word, Fraser turned on his heel and marched out of the tent. He found his horse and clutched at the saddle resting his head against his mare’s flank. 

His breathing was shallow, his heart aching fiercely. Ray couldn’t know. He wouldn’t hurt him by further straining his relationship with his father. Fraser knew he wasn’t worth the loss of Ray’s family. Ray would move on, he told himself firmly. What they’d had, had been fleeting and would never have worked anyway. Ray had told him as much in revealing his past. What more could he have possibly offered Ray? 

Gritting his teeth, Fraser forced back the well of emotion and overwhelming sense of loss that threatened to spill over, and wearily mounted his horse. Gripping the reins to keep his hands from shaking, he urged her into a canter. He headed for home without looking back, feeling as though he had left a part of himself at that godforsaken gold mine. 

****

Winter came quickly to Dawson, blanketing the city under a layer of white. It was eerily beautiful but lethal if you stayed still too long. The temperature plummeted to below freezing temperatures and the days got shorter until there was only a couple of hours of daylight left in the day. It was dark, it was freezing, and downright inhospitable in Ray's honest opinion.

Ray complained loudly and often about the cold; his lean frame refused to retain any heat whenever he stepped outside. If there was a hell, Dawson in the grips of the Yukon winter was what Ray imagined hell would be. His dour mood wasn't helped at all by whatever was going on with Fraser. 

Ever since the landslide at the mine, Fraser had been at best distant, at worst downright evasive. Ray wasn’t dumb. He knew something was wrong, but he couldn't get Fraser to talk to him. Hell, he was lucky to get the man to stay in the room with him for more than sixty seconds. Ray was rapidly approaching the end of his rope and if Fraser didn't stop avoiding him, and soon, he was going to end up making an ass of himself publicly and he knew it. Ray had never been good at hiding how he felt, especially when he was upset and hurting.

He couldn't figure out what had gone wrong. They’d been good, great even and then Fraser had just vanished after the landslide. He hadn't visited Ray in the hospital and whenever Ray had gone to look for him at the depot, he was either out on patrol or just leaving. Ray had grabbed his arm once to stop him and Fraser had jerked back so roughly it was as though he'd been burned, forcing Ray to instantly release his grasp. It had seemed like a rejection and Ray's chest constricted painfully at the thought. Given the nature of their relationship, Ray couldn't exactly confront the man either but he was going crazy trying to work out what he'd done so wrong, it had driven Fraser away. The man couldn't stand to be near him anymore, never mind be touched by him and that cut deeper than Ray cared to admit.

Worrying about it had worn his temper to fraying. He snapped at work, he was sullen at home to the point where even his mom didn't want to be around him, and he couldn't tell anybody. He had been so convinced they had had a connection, he was sure Fraser had felt it too. He didn't understand. It had been almost three weeks since they’d seen each other for more than five minutes and none of the way Fraser was acting made sense. 

Ray just needed a couple of minutes alone with him. He'd apologise for whatever it was, he would make it right. Whatever he'd done that had somehow upset Fraser or hurt him, he would fix it. Ray was not too proud to beg. He wanted Fraser, he _missed_ him terribly; it felt as though he had a hole in his chest. He'd thought Fraser had known how much he had meant to Ray after he'd told him about John, and how much Ray had wanted to mean to Fraser. 

God, what an idiot he'd been! How could anybody want him after what he'd admitted? Part of him didn't even blame Fraser but the man could have been honest about it with him. That would have been the decent thing to do, and Fraser was nothing if not a decent man.

Ray shook his head with a growl of frustration. It didn't matter how he felt about the man! Fraser didn't want anything to do with him, that much was obvious. At the very least Ray felt he was owed an explanation and one way or another he was going to get it. He slammed the drawer of his desk angrily when he couldn't find his pen, startling everyone in the office. 

"Kowalski!" 

Ray snapped his head round at Macpherson's beckoning. 

"My office." 

Pouting, Ray let out a sigh and shoved out of his chair with more force than was necessary, sending it skittering across the floor. "Can it wait?" he bit out curtly. 

"No. Now," came the firm command. 

Ray really didn't want to lose this job on top of everything else. Curling his upper lip he breathed in for a few seconds and then marched over to Macpherson's office. "I'm just writing that piece you wanted about the hospital," he started defensively. 

"Ray, shut the door." 

Doing as he was told, Ray waited, hands shoved into his pockets so he wouldn't fidget too much. 

"I don't know what is going on with you--"

"--Sir, I'm just--"

"--I wasn't finished." Macpherson barked out in irritation. "I'm going to put it down to stress and recovery. Winter is hard on everyone. You went through a traumatic experience three weeks ago, you were hurt. Take some time."

"I don't need--"

"--I wasn't asking, Kowalski." Macpherson steepled his fingers and sighed. "You did good. You got the front page. It's running this week."

Ray looked at him in surprise, his temper placated somewhat. "I did?" 

"Yeah you did. It was a great piece about the mine, stirred up a lot of sentiment. Here, take the preview," he handed the paper to Ray. "And get yourself some rest, relax for a little bit. It's nearly December, it's a slow month, take some time off. You've earned it."

Mouth twisting unhappily, hand curling around the paper he was holding, Ray shifted his weight. "Do I have a choice?"

"Not if you still want a job in the new year, no," Macpherson declared dryly. "You'll still get paid. We can run what you've written so far. Just take care of yourself, Ray. You're starting to worry folks."

Lowering his gaze, cheeks burning, Ray gave a short jerk of his head. "Fine. Can I keep this?" He held up the paper. 

"It's yours, Ray."

Acknowledging with a short nod, Ray opened the door. 

"And Ray?"

He paused, not bothering to turn around. "Good work. You're a great writer."

Ray left without another word. Fat lot of good being a great writer got him. Wasn't going to bring Fraser back to him, he thought bitterly. Grabbing his thick coat and wrapping up in as many layers as he could, he stepped out into the icy twilight and started for home, already shivering in the bitterly cold air. 

A few moments later he stopped in his tracks and turned around, trudging in the opposite direction. There was nothing he wanted at home and he would just get more pissed off having his mom fuss over him. Now that he didn't have to worry about turning up for work the next day, he was going to get drunk. With any luck he'd forget his own name, he thought miserably. And if he was really lucky, he'd forget all about Benton _bastard_ Fraser and the incessant pain in his chest.

****

Pen scratching across the paper, Fraser filled out his report diligently. It had been another long evening and another poor soul who had succumbed to the brutality of winter. The constables on duty were tending to the body, delivering it to the hospital and then dealing with the deceased's effects while he was filling out the report. It was a sadly common occurrence during winter but it never got any easier to deal with. 

Night shift was his this week, at his request. Being on duty at night meant there was less chance of bumping into Ray but more chance of dealing with drunken louts or the victims of winter. Letting out a heavy sigh and running a hand over his face, Fraser pinched his nose and screwed his eyes shut. The dull throbbing behind his eyes just would not abate. Unable to concentrate, he dropped his pen and sat back in his seat, fingers massaging his temples. 

He knew it was tension. He'd been feeling increasingly tense for the past three weeks. The effort of trying not to think about Ray nor see him if at all possible was utterly draining. Ray had not made it at all easy. The man had sought him out and had seemed to be everywhere Fraser had been, as often as possible. Every time Fraser had seen that look of hurt confusion in those expressive, golden flecked eyes, he had broken a little more inside. It was physically painful to be so near to the man he… missed so much and not be able to touch him, to comfort him and tell him everything would be all right. 

As far as Fraser was concerned, nothing would ever be all right again. That was the one truth of his life. He was better off alone so that no one else would suffer due to the foolish yearning of his heart.

"Corporal Fraser!" 

Fraser's eyes snapped open and he stared at Jack, who had burst through the depot door in quite a hurry. "Jack Huey? Are you alright?" 

"There's a brawl, at the saloon," he announced breathlessly. "Come quick!" 

He was out of his seat in an instant. Grabbing his coat and his Stetson, he raced after Jack into the night, his boots slipping on the slick ice. There hadn't been a fresh fall of snow in a couple of days so the old snowfall in the city had been trampled down into smooth dirtied ice. 

Fraser ran as fast as he was able, hearing the brawl before he saw it. Skidding to a halt outside the saloon, Fraser nodded to Jack who stood to one side. The man tipped his own hat and disappeared into Frannie’s roadhouse where he lived. Fraser couldn't blame him, the brawls could get quite vicious. He didn't relish the thought of going into the saloon alone. Patting his holster, he prayed he wouldn't have to use his gun and then stepped inside the building. 

Inside was chaos. Chairs had been overturned, a couple of tables with them. A large group of men had gathered around the main brawlers and were yelling and encouraging the fight. 

"Corporal!" Welsh bellowed, waved at him from behind the wall of people who turned en masse to glare at him warily. 

"Excuse me, please! Corporal Fraser, NWMP, you are all to cease and desist immediately!" 

A few of the men listened and disbanded as Fraser made his way through the crowd. Welsh joined him and gripped his arm firmly. "Am I glad to see you."

"What's going on?" Fraser demanded as Welsh pulled him through the tight throng of men shoving and shouting. "Kowalski attacked Vecchio," he jabbed two fingers at the fighting men. 

"He's drunk?"

"So drunk I'm surprised he's still standing. Get him out of here before somebody really takes a disliking to him and he gets hurt." 

Grim faced, Fraser stepped into the fray just as Ray launched a punch at Vecchio who was already looking pretty beat up. He caught the punch and twisted the arm up Ray's back, pinning it there while the man struggled and kicked out at Vecchio viciously.

"Get off me!" 

"Ray, please!"

"Fraser, you bastard, lemme go!"

"Ray, Ray, Ray!"

"No! You got nothing to say to me that I wanna hear!" Ray shoved himself back, pinning Fraser against the bar, still unable to free his arm from Fraser's strong grasp. 

"I need you to calm down."

"Fraser, I swear I will punch you in your Goddamn head! Get your hands off me!" Ray snarled and tried to forcibly free himself. 

Gritting his teeth, Fraser was forced to grab Ray's other arm as he tried to lash out at him and then handcuffed his wrists behind him. "Welsh, would you mind?" 

"Not a problem." The larger man grabbed Ray who was now hurling obscenities at Fraser and dragged him away from the crowd. He kept a large arm wrapped around the smaller man practically lifting him off his feet while Fraser tended to Vecchio. 

"Let me see," Fraser ordered, inspecting the cut above Vecchio's eye. "It's superficial, Ray you'll be fine."

"That guttersnipe won't be fine!" Vecchio growled. "He attacked me unprovoked!"

Remaining calm in the face of his friend's anger, Fraser spotted Stella Williams for the first time, emerging timidly from an alcove. "What happened?" 

Vecchio held out a hand to her and drew her in close, putting an arm around her waist protectively. "We were announcing how we're moving back to America together in the spring. We were having a drink and we shared a kiss and the next thing I know that maniac is dragging me off and punching me in the face!" 

"He's not normally like this, Corporal," Stella interrupted worriedly. "Ray Kowalski, I mean. There must be something wrong."

"Yeah, he's crazy!" Vecchio protested vehemently. 

Rubbing his thumb over his eyebrow, Fraser frowned. "I will talk to him."

"Has he told you what's been wrong these past couple of weeks?" Stella pressed with concern. "I know you two are friends that you spend a lot of time together…"

Dipping his head guiltily, Fraser looked down at his feet and tugged an ear lobe self consciously, "Ah. Well, we haven't of late, not since the mine…" 

Her eyes widened in surprise at that and she drew back thoughtfully, regarding Fraser with a shrewd scowl. "I see…" she started slowly, continuing with a clipped edge to her words. "Ray doesn't handle his emotions well, especially when he's upset." She paused for a second and added pointedly, "Or dealing with rejection." 

Stiffening at her words, Fraser looked up at her sharply and then glanced at Vecchio who was frowning and looking between them in confusion. 

"I don't care what his problem is," Vecchio growled out, dabbing at the blood on his head with a handkerchief. "The man is a menace."

"That being said, Ray, Stella is correct, he hasn't acted like this before and I do believe there are extenuating circumstances in this instance." 

"So what are you saying? You want me to drop it?" Vecchio stared at Fraser in disbelief. "What's to say he won't attack me again?" 

"I'll talk to him. Please Ray, after the incident in the mine and everything he's been through, I'm asking you as a friend. And as I am also Ray Kowalski's friend," he flicked his eyes briefly to Stella who glared knowingly at him, "I'm asking if you could see it in yourself to overlook this out of character transgression. Just this once."

"Benny, I can't believe you! Stop giving me those damn big Mountie eyes! I'm not feeling guilty about this! He deserves to be punished or beaten and left in the cold," Vecchio scoffed irately.

"Please Ray," Stella placed her hands on his arm and squeezed gently. 

Vecchio deflated with a loud dramatic sigh. "Fine. Fine!" He pointed a finger at Fraser. "But he gets a night in the cells, Benny."

"Of course, Ray," Fraser dipped his head. "It is only prudent while he is intoxicated." 

"Alright, fine. Take the damn Polack," Vecchio grumbled. 

"Thank you kindly, Ray. You're a good man."

Vecchio waved at him dismissively, "Yeah, yeah, don't mention it." 

Fraser turned to leave only for Stella to grab his arm. 

"Fix it. Whatever it is you've done, just talk to him," she hissed fiercely. "He's a good man too." 

"I know," Fraser answered automatically, taken aback by her perception and forthrightness. It was the truth after all. "I'll try."

Nodding, she patted his arm lightly and refocused her attentions on Vecchio, who was more than happy to receive them. 

Pursing his lips, Fraser nodded his thanks to Welsh who released his hold on Ray. He stilled for a moment when Ray peered up at him, icy blue eyes pinned to his own, revealing a depth of emotion and anguish that stabbed straight through Fraser's heart. Then Ray’s mouth twisted and he dropped his gaze dejectedly to the floor without a word. 

Gently taking Ray's arm, Fraser got him to his feet and led the now subdued man out of the saloon. He frowned at how despondent and quiet Ray had become; his head bowed, his footing unsteady as he lurched and stumbled, held upright only by Fraser’s firm grip on his arm. This was a side of Ray he had not seen and he ached to see the bright vibrant man he cared deeply about so broken down and defeated. 

As they slowly made their way to the depot, he told himself Ray’s dolour wasn't about him; he was certainly not worth this amount of torment. Yet, the more he tried to convince himself of that, the louder the nagging whispers at the back of his mind became, telling him this was all his doing, the more he hated himself.

****

Ray’s head felt like it was stuffed with wool and his stomach was rolling unhappily. He probably should have eaten before he’d proceeded to drink several pints of Welsh’s house ale. That or simply being this close to Fraser was making him feel nauseous. They hadn’t spoken two words to each other since leaving the saloon and Ray didn’t know how to break the silence. He was angry, uncertain, and sad that a rift, no, a chasm seemed to exist between them now. 

He let himself be steered to one of the cells at the back of the depot and sat heavily on the bench inside. He rubbed his wrists once Fraser had unlocked the handcuffs and slumped against the wall of the cell. 

“I’ll get you some water,” Fraser said finally. 

Ray glanced up without moving his head and peered at Fraser’s retreating back through half lidded eyes. Lord, he was tired. Fraser had sounded tired too, worn down even. Perhaps now he would talk to him? Although, this wasn’t ideally the way he wanted to get Fraser’s attention. He had really messed up this time. Letting his head drop back against the cold cell wall, he sighed and closed his eyes. 

When a gentle hand squeezed his shoulder, he opened them again and looked up at Fraser who held out a cup. 

“Please drink, Ray,” Fraser urged quietly. “It’ll help with the intoxication.” 

Taking the cup, Ray drank all the water and thrust it back at Fraser sullenly. 

“Do you need some more?” 

“No.”

Sighing softly, Fraser fiddled with the cup and then sat beside Ray on the bench. “What possessed you to attack Ray Vecchio?” 

Shrugging, Ray looked away. “He was shoving his new relationship with Stella in my face. I got mad.” 

“You still have feelings for her,” Fraser stated plainly.

Levelling a glower at Fraser, Ray narrowed his eyes. “What’s that matter to you?” 

Unable to suppress a wince at Ray’s harsh words, Fraser closed his eyes. “I’m merely trying to understand why--”

“--What’s to understand, Fraser? People get mad, they fight. I got mad, I punched that bastard in his smug face. What else do you need to know?” 

“Ray, please--”

“--Fraser, no. You haven’t bothered to talk to me for three weeks. Three! Why in the hell should I tell you anything about how I’m feeling now?” Ray glared at him, his heart beating hard in his chest when Fraser bowed his head and appeared to fold defeatedly into himself. 

“Ray… I’m sorry…”

“Don't do that. Do not. I don’t want to hear it, Fraser.” He got to his feet and began to pace the cell, agitated. “I don’t want an apology.” His rapid movements and the alcohol in his system made him dizzy and he stumbled, flinching when Fraser’s hand curled around his arm to steady him. Fraser was warm and solid beside him and he leaned into him despite himself, soaking up the nearness of him. _God he smells good,_ Ray thought as he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Instead of pulling free, he looked at Fraser, daring him to look away. 

“Fraser… _Ben_ , please just tell me what I did to you and what I can do to fix it.”

“Ray, you’ve done nothing wrong.” 

Turning to face Fraser, Ray grasped his arms tightly. “Then why, Ben? Why have you been avoiding me? Why won’t you talk to me, tell me what’s wrong?” 

Fraser opened his mouth, his eyes downcast and shook his head helplessly. 

“Please, Ben…” Ray implored in a whisper, moving his hands to cup Fraser’s face, thumbs brushing over the faint rasp of stubble dusting his jaw, as he leaned closer to press their lips together. 

“Ray… don’t, you’re drunk…” Fraser murmured forlornly after their kiss broke, his forehead pressed against Ray’s.

Ray ignored him and kissed him again, tongue slipping past his parted lips, relishing Fraser’s soft moan. He felt his sharp intake of breath and the way his hands curled about his wrists, holding him there almost desperately as their lips parted. “ _Please…_ ” Ray pleaded with a breath. 

Biting his lower lip, Fraser took half a step back from Ray, his expression distraught as he looked at him. “I can’t…” He kept a tight hold of Ray’s wrists as though afraid to let go. “It isn’t anything you’ve done, nor anything you can fix, you’re just better off without--”

“--Without you?” Ray snapped. “Is that what you’re going to say?” he snatched his hands out of Fraser’s grasp and glared angrily at him. “Why is it you who gets to decide what’s better for me?” 

“Ray--”

“--No! That’s not your choice to make, Fraser!” Ray stabbed two fingers through the air at Fraser. “If you feel _anything_ for me at all, you would talk to me, you’d tell me the truth!” 

“I can’t!”

“You won’t!” Ray argued, shoving Fraser hard against the back wall of the cell while Fraser simply stared at him hopelessly, his breathing ragged. “Talk to me, damn it!” 

Screwing his eyes shut, Fraser hung his head and practically crumpled against the wall, his words barely audible when he spoke. “I’m so sorry…” 

Unable to tear his eyes away, Ray’s nostrils flared as he tried to rein in the anger and utter desolation he felt bubbling beneath the surface. His fists clenched, his upper lip curling in contempt. “You’re a coward,” he spat out. 

“Ray--”

“--Get out!” Ray held Fraser’s shocked gaze when he looked up at him and made sure he could see nothing but anger. 

“I’m--”

“Don’t!” Ray held up a hand, finally averting his gaze to the floor. “Just leave… _Corporal_.” He heard a choked sound of distress from Fraser. He forced himself to remain still and not look at Fraser as he marched past and fled the cell, locking it behind him without another word. Only when he was sure he was alone did Ray allow himself to sink to the floor with a dejected sob.

****

Fraser stopped around the corner from the cell, back pressed against the icy-cold hard wall. His face twisted in despair as his acute hearing picked up the stifled sounds of Ray’s heartache and distress. He longed to return to the cell, to take Ray in his arms and comfort him, never let anything or anyone hurt him ever again. But, Ray was right, he was a coward.

He wouldn’t allow his feelings, their feelings to ruin Ray’s chances at a happy life. He couldn’t give him that, not with the threat of exposure hanging over their heads. He had nothing to offer Ray but his heart which came with ostracization and hardship. It wasn’t worth the price Ray would have to pay. He wouldn’t do that to him, he felt too much for him and knew he deserved better, no matter how painful it felt right at that moment. 

****

Sipping his coffee, Ray bent over his notebook and wrote. He had a small typewriter back at the hut but there was something he enjoyed about writing by hand. Pushing his glasses up his nose and tapping his pen to his lips thoughtfully, he paused before continuing his writing. While he was on leave from work, he had decided to put his idea of writing a dramatised version of a journey to the Klondike into action. Since that unfortunate incident in Welsh’s saloon, almost two weeks ago now, he had already filled one notebook. Having no distractions and a cold bitter anger toward a certain Mountie driving him went a long way, it seemed. 

He had made no attempt to see or speak to Fraser since that night but he hadn’t stopped thinking about him. Even after their fight, he struggled to understand what was going through Fraser’s head, his reasons. Why on Earth he felt like he couldn’t talk to him. Did Fraser think him truly so inflexible, so uncaring that he couldn’t tell him the truth? Had he always thought so little of him? Had Ray just never really known who Benton Fraser was? Perhaps he had simply seen what he’d wanted to see. 

Dropping his pen, Ray squeezed his eyes closed and ran both hands through his hair, tugging at it. His thoughts ran in circles whenever he let them and it was all he could do not to run screaming into the street in mad frustration. Still, Ray Kowalski was smart enough to know which battles to fight and which he had to walk away from. If Fraser wouldn’t budge then he had already made his decision and Ray had no choice but to accept the reality.

“Jack, could I get another?” he held up his empty coffee cup. 

Giving him a smile and a wave, Jack set to work. “Sure thing, Ray.” 

“Why are you hiding in here again?” Frannie asked with an amused smile at Ray. Taking a break from cleaning the tables, she leaned against the wall by Ray’s seat. 

“I’m not hiding,” Ray protested mildly. “I’m working.”

Raising an eyebrow at him, Francesca hummed. “Sure, and how are you and the Corporal these days?”

Hunching in his seat, Ray sighed. “Frannie, come on…” 

“All right, fine. Touchy subject, I’m sorry I mentioned it. But you’re both as bad as each other, you know?” 

He glanced up at her with a scowl. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Well, he’s just as miserable as you. It's just so typical of men to not say what they're really thinking.” 

“What?” Ray blurted out in surprise. 

“I know you had a falling out and neither of you are talking about it, but I’ve heard rumours from some of the constables.” 

Frowning suspiciously, Ray sat back in his chair and folded his arms. “What rumours?”

“That Corporal Fraser is making mistakes and being reckless at work.”

Shaking his head, Ray made a face. “That’s dumb, Frannie. Fraser is never reckless, especially not at work.” 

Picking at her fingernails, Francesca merely pouted and looked disinterested. “That’s not what I’ve heard.”

Rapidly losing his patience, Ray gritted his teeth. “Fine, what exactly have you heard?” 

Taking it as an invitation, Francesca slid into the seat opposite and leaned closer conspiratorially. “Constable Turnbull told me that when they had to apprehend armed bandits outside the city, making threats, Fraser didn’t wait for backup and took them on, _alone_.”

He'd been subtly gleaning information from Turnbull himself, but the man hadn't mentioned that. The very thought made Ray feel like he was going to throw up. “Doesn’t mean anything, Frannie. Maybe he thought he was fine. I mean he got out fine, right?” 

She gave a one-shoulder shrug. “I suppose so, but you’ve got to admit it’s not like him, to take on four armed guys because he _might_ be fine.” 

“I have no idea what is like him, Frannie,” Ray stated pointedly. “And I don’t know why you think I care about what he’s doing or feeling.” 

Eyes widening at Ray’s stern tone, Francesca drew back. “I thought you were his friend, that’s all.”

Not wanting to upset Francesca who had always been sisterly to him, Ray looked down at his hands and fiddled with his pen. “I thought so too,” he muttered. 

Clucking sympathetically, Francesca placed a hand over his but before she got a chance to speak, frantic shouting erupted from the street. They both frowned at the door as Jack went to peer outside. 

“What is it?” Francesca asked worriedly. 

“The Mounties are at Vecchio’s place,” Jack reported back. “There’s a big crowd, something’s going on.”

“My brother’s house?” Francesca was out of her seat and at the door in a flash. 

Ray didn’t care what was going on and really didn’t want to chance bumping into Fraser, especially not now he was worrying about him, so he picked up his pen to resume his writing. 

A sudden sharp crack of a gunshot had them all jumping out of their skin. Francesca cried out in alarm, dashing out of the door before Jack could stop her. 

Ray got up then, his heart racing as they heard another gunshot and somebody shouting about someone getting shot. 

“We got a man down!” Constable Trembley hollered, “Out of the way. Officer down! Out of the way!” 

“Somebody get the Doctor!” Frobisher’s voice boomed through the cacophony. 

Constable Callum held Francesca away from the crowd as she cried into his chest. Spotting her, Ray ran over and placed a hand on her shoulder. “What’s happened?” 

“There was a mine claim dispute,” Callum explained. “Mr. Vecchio was cornered in his home. Luckily Corporal Fraser was nearby. He confronted the armed man.” 

Francesca turned to grip Ray tightly and wept into his coat. “Oh, Ray, he’s been shot!” 

“Who, Vecchio?” Ray demanded urgently. 

Callum frowned deeply. “Corporal Fraser, Sir, he was shot protecting Mr. Vecchio.” 

The bottom fell out of Ray’s stomach and he held onto Francesca for lack of anything more substantial to keep him upright. “Is he...?”

“We don’t know yet, Sir. He’s been taken back to the depot. We’re waiting on the Doctor. Would you please take care of Miss Vecchio for me? It’s too cold for her out here.” Callum dashed back to the scene, leaving Ray trying desperately to hold onto his composure. He trembled faintly with growing fear for Fraser’s life. 

“Come on, Frannie, there’s nothing we can do out here,” he managed to utter, his voice thick. He guided Francesca back inside and when Jack took over comforting the distraught woman, he sank into the nearest chair, clasping his shaking hands and staring blankly into space in shock. 

Being angry and not talking to Fraser, and losing Fraser forever, were two very distinct entities in Ray's mind. He'd never considered the possibility they wouldn't ever get the chance to repair some part of the friendship that had meant so much. That kind of regret, Ray didn't think he would ever get over. Would never forgive himself for.

He had no sense of how long he’d sat there, lost in his thoughts and his memories of his and Fraser's time together before he felt Francesca gently shaking his shoulder and saying his name.

"Ray, you alright? You've been really quiet for a while now."

“I have to know…” he murmured, shrugging off her concern. Decided, Ray headed back to his table and packed up his things. Putting on his hat and scarf and gloves, he slung his bag over his shoulder and marched out of the roadhouse, ignoring Francesca calling his name. Making his way through the dispersing crowds, he walked towards the Mountie depot, terrified of what he would find there.

When he reached the building he peered inside, catching sight of the Mounties crowding around Dr. Mort who was bent over tending to someone. When Trembley stepped to one side, Ray saw Fraser, or rather the side of Fraser. His breath caught at the sight of blood staining one side of Fraser's too pale face. Good Lord, had he been shot in the head? How was he even sitting upright? Pressing a trembling hand against the door, Ray backed off slowly. Fraser was alive. Obviously hurt, but alive. Losing his nerve, the taste of bile rising in his throat, Ray turned and flew down the steps. Away from the depot and away from Fraser.

****

"Raymond!" 

Half turning his head at the sound of his dad's voice, Ray grunted a greeting. He didn't feel like talking or moving from his bed where he had slumped. 

"It's crazy out there," Damian continued, shucking off his heavy coat. "The guys said somebody got shot."

"Fraser," Ray started to explain. "The Corporal," he added, not meeting his dad's eyes. 

"I see," Damian stilled, eyeing his son warily, mouth curling unhappily. "Is he, uh...?"

"He's alive." Ray responded blankly. 

"Okay, good, that's good." 

"Hm," Ray chewed his lower lip, staring up at the roof of their hut sullenly. 

"Look, Son, I know you were friends, but if he's all right then I don't see why you're sulking."

"He was shot, Dad. Would you be alright?" 

"I guess not."

"And I know you didn't like our friendship or him, but I'm allowed to be concerned when somebody I was friends with gets shot." 

"I didn't say you couldn't. There's just no point in wallowing. I might not have wanted you to be spending so much time with him, but I would never wish him harm." 

"Yeah well, you got what you wanted," Ray replied glumly. 

"Yes, well, the Corporal is a smart man. He doesn't need things spelled out for him. He understands how things are, so no point sulking, son," Damian huffed. "You're better off." 

Ray stopped fidgeting with the hem of his cuff and turned his head slowly to look at his father. "What did you say?" 

"That you're better off--"

"--No, before that," Ray narrowed his eyes at his dad, pushing himself to his feet. 

"About the Corporal?"

"Yeah... about the Corporal," Ray repeated steadily, approaching his father who now looked distinctly uncomfortable and unable to meet his son's gaze. 

"Well, he's smart and understands society and what's acceptable…" 

Tilting his head to the right and pinning his father with a steely glare, Ray kept his voice firm even as his heart began to hammer in his chest. "What did you do?" 

Damian floundered somewhat, hands fiddling with a towel draped over one of their chairs. "Now, son, come on. It was a polite conversation between two men, nothing untoward."

"What did you say to him?" 

"Raymond--"

"--Dad, tell me what you said!" 

"Just that, um… I thanked him for saving our lives...and, uh…"

Ray bit his lip, crowding his dad against the stove. "And?"

"And that he should let you rest and let you get back to your life…"

"Dad?" Ray prompted with a growl. He'd been a journalist for long enough that he could tell when somebody wasn't telling him everything.

Looking at the floor, Damian folded his arms defensively. "And that it was a father's job to protect his son from harm or those that might hurt him or make his life more difficult because he deserves better." 

Ray gaped in angry astonishment. Once again his father had meddled in his life and made it several degrees worse. 

"Raymond, I--"

Ray held up a hand and half turned away from his father, his chest heaving. He wanted to hit the man but he wouldn't, couldn't strike his own father. "--Don't. Do not speak to me right now," he snarled, his voice rough.

"I did it for you, son," Damian insisted when Ray turned away, his hands over his face.

"I can't even look at you right now."

"It's for the best."

"Says who? You?" Ray whirled around, startling his father into taking a couple of steps back. He stabbed his index and little finger through the air at his father's face. "You want me to be like you? Fitting in, so I can blindly chase fortune across the continent, thinking of nobody but myself?"

"It's more of a life than you would have if people knew!" 

"It's never been about anybody else!" Ray yelled, hands clutching at his hair. "It's only ever been about you! How I would embarrass _you_!"

"That's not true! Everything I've ever done I've done for you, so you could be better off… have a life!"

"I had a life and I had--" _him._ Ray cut himself off before he could say it and shook his head. "You _never_ cared about what I wanted or who I was," he snarled. Grabbing his bag, glad he hadn't unpacked it, he shoved in his long underwear and some extra clothes. 

"Son, what are you doing?"

Ray ignored his father, shoving past him as he put on his coat and scarf. 

"Raymond!" 

Stopping in the doorway, Ray shot his father a disgusted glance. 

"Think of your mother." 

Mouth twisting into a sneer, Ray left the hut and slammed the door viciously behind him.

****

The depot was quiet when Ray pushed open the door. Dr. Mort had left and there was no sign of Fraser. Turnbull lit up when he saw Ray and gave him a dazzling smile that actually filled Ray with guilt. He'd been _accidentally on purpose_ bumping into Turnbull under the guise of being friendly in order to surreptitiously keep subtle tabs on Fraser. He wasn't proud of using the other man's affection for him to serve his own needs but desperate times had called for desperate measures. 

"Ray, we've not seen you here in a while. How have you been?"

"Good. Uh, I need to speak to Fraser -- is he here?" 

Mouth turning down at the corners, Turnbull approached Ray tentatively. "I'm sure you heard what happened?" 

"Yeah, it's partly why I need to see him. Where is he?"

"Well, I'm not at liberty to say, Ray, I'm sure you understand. He's been through quite an ordeal and requested to be left alone during his convalescence." 

Ray scowled, "Turnbull, Renfield, come on don't mess me around. You know Fraser and I are… were close friends. I just want to talk to him."

Turnbull wrung his hands and ducked his head. "He's not been himself of late, and he is naturally a very private man but I've... well, all of us have really been quite concerned."

"What do you mean?" 

Leaning closer, Turnbull lowered his voice. "Corporal Fraser has been distracted, not himself recently, and this has been detrimental to his duties. It is not like him. I hope you don't mind me saying, and I am in no way implying that your liaison with the Corporal is anything other than the friendship it appears, but I am not as unaware as people may think. And although it pains me to admit it," Turnbull paused and smiled wistfully at Ray, "Your presence has been sorely missed."

"Renfield, I… I'm sorry, I never meant to make you think… that I and you--"

"--Think nothing of it, Ray, you have been a gentleman," Turnbull held Ray's hand, his smile warm. "We don't get to choose where the desires of our hearts lie. I am grateful for your friendship, as I am the Corporal’s, which is why I've been quite worried about him and have been hoping you would stop by."

Ray frowned, his guilt tasting bitter in his mouth. "Please just tell me where he is." 

"The Corporal is indisposed."

Both men looked up at Frobisher's stern voice and Turnbull straightened to attention. 

"Look, I just want to see him. We're--"

"--Friends?" Frobisher interrupted with a raised eyebrow. "Constable, you're dismissed." 

Turnbull hesitated and looked at Ray sympathetically before reluctantly taking his leave.

"I'm not looking for trouble," Ray explained.

Frobisher studied him carefully for a long moment. "Ray Kowalski, right?" 

Ray jerked his head in a curt nod. 

"Benton has spoken highly of you. Until he stopped speaking of you at all. After the incident at the saloon, I believe, where you mysteriously weren't charged with assault," Frobisher mused thoughtfully. 

Shifting his weight uneasily, Ray braced himself for an argument.

"I've known Benton all his life," Frobisher continued before Ray could respond. "Smart boy, earnest too, an exemplary Mountie to make his father proud." Frobisher fixed a scrutinising gaze on Ray. "Doesn't trust easily. Lonely. Has this tendency to get stuck inside himself; takes himself far too seriously." 

Ray didn't know what to say to that and licked his lips nervously, feeling like Frobisher was staring through him, weighing him up. 

"Moreso after he lost his father. Blames himself, you know?"

"Yeah, yeah, I know…" Ray answered quietly, dropping his gaze. 

"Benton's a good man," Frobisher declared proudly. "Doesn't deserve what happened to him up there."

Eyes darting up to meet Frobisher's surprisingly kind gaze, Ray pursed his lips. "Know that too." 

"Hm, well then," Frobisher clapped his hands together. "Let's get you dressed."

"Huh?"

"It's twenty below outside. You'll freeze to death dressed like that. Wait here, pretty sure we have some spare winter wear," Frobisher smiled, disappearing into the back as Ray looked on bewildered. 

Frobisher returned and thrust a neatly folded fur parka and a pair of fur lined boots. "Put that parka and those mukluks on, they're made out of Caribou and seal skin. A gift from Chief Isaac. They'll keep you warm until you reach the cabin."

"All right." Ray put the pile on one of the desks and changed his boots first. "Why are you--"

"--Helping you?" Frobisher's mouth twitched into an almost smile. "Bob Fraser was my partner and my friend, so Benton is like family to me. I would like to see him stop getting in his own way." Frobisher helped fasten the hood over Ray's head and patted the parka. "His uh...friendship with you was the first time I've seen Benton relax and, landsakes, actually smile, really smile since Bob died."

Stomach flip flopping, Ray looked at the older man sharply. Did Frobisher know? Had he known all along? "I, uh…"

Frobisher just winked at him knowingly. "You're all set. I trust you know the way to his cabin?"

"Yeah, I do."

Frobisher smiled and clapped his shoulder firmly. "Godspeed." 

Giving the man a grateful nod, Ray stuffed his boots into his bag and headed out into the night. A fresh snow was falling and for the first time since winter began he didn't feel the chill immediately. They might not smell great but there was definitely something to be said for the clothes. Even so, without his horse the journey would take him over an hour to reach Fraser's cabin. He only hoped he wouldn't freeze to death before he had a chance to make things right or at the very least, apologise. Fraser deserved that much.

****

Fraser let the book he was trying to read fall onto his chest. The throbbing in his skull was making it difficult to concentrate on the words. The adrenaline from being shot had worn off and it had hit him like a moose kick to the stomach. He’d gone light-headed, started shaking, and his skin had gone clammy. His legs had been unable to support his weight. So he’d laid down on his bed until it had passed. He felt too nauseated to eat and too wired to sleep and so had tried to read to no avail. 

Rubbing his hand tiredly over his face, he sighed. The sound of Dief howling in the woods broke the silence of his cabin. Normally, he relished the quiet but after Ray had stayed with him, a short stay though it was, the quiet felt almost oppressive. Ray just had a way of filling a space. Surprising for a man with such a slight build. His presence, his spirited personality had filled his cabin with warmth and Fraser missed him terribly. How had he allowed himself to become so attached in such a short time? It was woefully witless of him. There was just something about Ray, though, that drew Fraser to him. Like a moth to a flame. 

Hearing excited barking, Fraser frowned at the door and pushed himself up to sitting, swinging his legs over the side of his bed. Dief was animated about something but between the pain in his head and the biting temperatures outside, Fraser was loathe to go and see what it was. He would however, get up and make himself some tea. He hoped that would help him feel better.

The unanticipated thumping of his door startled him into standing stock still in the middle of his floor. Blinking, he stared at his still closed door when the knocking happened again. Crossing the room in three long strides he flung the door open and stared open-mouthed in astonishment at a very frozen looking Ray. 

“Hi F...ff...Fraser…”

“Ray! What on Earth?” Fraser didn’t wait for a response before grabbing Ray’s parka and yanking him inside the cabin. “Good Lord, Ray you’re freezing!” 

“I ff… fell in th...the ss..snow,” Ray’s teeth chattered audibly and he hugged his arms to himself tightly. 

Fraser frowned at the sight of him: his eyelashes and eyebrows were dusted with frost and his nose was pink, his lips too pale. He bodily shivered in the middle of Fraser’s cabin with Dief whining and winding his way around his legs. Fraser immediately went to work unfastening the buttons of his parka. “You need to get this off.”

“Y..you kk...kidding… it’s cc...cold!” Ray protested, weakly batting at Fraser’s hands. 

“Ray, you fell in the snow, it’s wet, and you need to get it off and sit by the fire. I’ll get you a blanket,” Fraser insisted. He moved quickly, freeing Ray from the coat and grabbing the spare blanket from his bed. Wrapping it tightly around Ray, he then proceeded to hold him close and rub his arms and back in an effort to build up his body heat. “What in the Sam Hill were you thinking, Ray? It’s twenty below outside!” he scolded. 

Despite himself, he hugged Ray tightly as he pressed into Fraser’s body. 

“Ll...lan...language… Ff...Fraser.” Ray grinned. "Dd… Damn...you're ll… like a ff… ff...furnace."

Pulling back to frown at Ray irritably, Fraser glared at him, “You could have died!”

His smile fading, Ray clutched the blanket tighter and held Fraser’s steely gaze, “I had… t...to cc...come.” He lifted a still trembling hand up to the bandaged gash on the side of Fraser’s head. “Ss...scared me.” 

Eyes softening, Fraser averted his gaze. “Sit by the fire, I’ll make you some tea. It’ll help warm you up.” He pulled away from Ray, only for Ray to catch his shirt and hold it tightly in his fist. 

“W...we need to… tt...talk.”

Meeting Ray’s sharp blue eyes that shone intensely at him in a wordless challenge, he hesitated for a brief moment before acceding with a curt nod. “Sit, get warm first,” he commanded mildly, turning away from Ray so he could pull himself together. He didn’t want to hurt Ray but he would answer any direct question Ray asked. Here in his cabin there was nowhere for either of them to go, not with the weather worsening outside... and he would not lie to him. 

****

Ray knelt down in front of the fire, his eyes flicking up at Fraser who was busying himself with the stove. He smiled when Dief curled up beside him, lending him his warmth, and Ray gratefully buried his tingling fingers in the wolf’s soft fur. He pulled off his mukluks and damp socks and wiggled his toes to encourage the blood flow. Finally he felt like he was beginning to thaw. Rubbing his hands together he held them out in front of the fire, closing his eyes as the heat radiated slowly through his body until he stopped shivering. 

“Don’t get too close, Ray,” Fraser murmured in caution, crouching beside him to offer him a cup of tea. 

Taking the offered cup, curling his hands around it, he smiled. “Thanks.”

Fraser moved back to sit on one of the chairs beside the table and quietly sipped his own tea, his eyes gazing into the fire, and noticeably not at Ray. 

Sighing softly, Ray got up and moved to the other chair, keeping hold of the blanket with one hand and his cup in the other. “Fraser,” he paused with a slight crease in his brow. “ _Ben…_ ” 

He got a sharp look then. Fraser’s icy blue eyes glimmered at him in the amber glow of the cabin, with such sorrow that it was all Ray could do not to pull him into his arms and never let go. “I know my father talked to you at the mine.” At Fraser's sharp intake of breath, Ray paused but held Fraser’s gaze steadily. “What I want to know is why you didn’t tell me? Why you thought your best option was to avoid me, to push me away?”

Looking down at his cup, Fraser shook his head. “I couldn’t... I didn’t want to come between you and your father. After everything you told me, how you’d rebuilt your relationship, I wasn’t going to destroy that on some selfish whim.” 

"Ben, you clearly missed the point of that story," Ray stated pointedly. 

Fraser got up so suddenly, that Ray jumped in surprise and stared at him worriedly. "Oh please, Ray, do tell me which part of your father finding out about you and forcing you to make a choice--"

So unused to the sardonic tone in Fraser's voice, it took Ray a minute before he tried to put a stop to the fight he could feel Fraser building up to. Listing all his rational reasons of why not, and why they couldn't. He didn't need to hear it. Fraser was wrong and he would show him just that. 

"--Fraser."

"And you quite rightly making the practical, sensible choice--"

"--Fraser, just stop."

"In order to save both you and your lover from certain persecution and discrimination--"

"--Fraser, Goddamnit will you listen?"

"And you regretting your strained relationship with your father and how glad you are now that you have him in your life--"

"Fraser!"

"Reinforcing my decision not to come between you and destroy what you have strived to rebuild--"

"For God sakes, _Ben_!" Ray was on his feet now, closing in on Fraser's personal space and grabbing his forearms.

"--Is somehow me 'missing your point'?"

"Because it was the choice I made that I regretted!" Ray yelled frustratedly, shaking Fraser a fraction to emphasise his point. "Not my relationship with my dad!" He glared at Fraser intently. "I regret that choice everyday. Every damn day. How did you not get that from what I told you?" 

Fraser wilted, "I wanted to save you from making such a painful decision again, from potentially losing your father."

"What the hell gives you the right to make my decisions for me?" 

"Ray," Fraser said in that patient Mountie tone he got when he was explaining something he didn't think anybody understood. Ray hated it. "It stood to reason you would make the same decision again and I could expect nothing else. I just didn't want you to have to suffer through it." 

"Oh yeah, great job there, buddy," Ray let him go and turned away exasperated. Then, he turned and jabbed Fraser hard in the chest with both hands, pushing him back. "You had no idea what I would decide! You didn't even give me a chance!" 

"I was trying to help you!" Fraser frowned in confusion. "What makes this situation any different from then? I have nothing to offer you, Ray. No easy life. So why on Earth would I think that you would choose me when you didn't choose him?"

"I didn't love him like I love you!" Ray shouted, his chest heaving as he realised what he'd just admitted. Fraser reeled back as though he'd popped him one in the head and Ray's stomach twisted into knots. 

"You… you love me?"

Ray backed off, his eyes fixed on Fraser, who looked stunned -- and that couldn't be good. He continued on regardless; there was no taking it back now. "I know it's dumb. I know it's only been a few months but, yeah, Ben… I do, and even if you don't, you still should have trusted me enough to talk to me man to man." 

"Ray, I didn't… I mean, I hoped but… I had no idea… I--I thought--"

Lowering his gaze, Ray's mouth twisted bitterly. "Yeah, well, you thought wrong." 

"You really love me?" Fraser whispered. 

"How many times are you going to make me say it? Yes, Benton Fraser, I am in love with y-mmpff!" The rest of Ray's words were cut off by Fraser's lips pressing against his own urgently, his strong hands clutching his face. He gasped when their mouths parted and stared bewildered into Fraser's bright fearful eyes. "Ben?"

"I'm so sorry, Ray… I didn't know," Fraser murmured, pressing their foreheads together. "I acted rashly. I didn't want to cause you more pain. I couldn't bear it, I care about you far too much…"

"What are you saying?" Ray murmured, not daring to hope as his heart threatened to leap out of his chest. 

Fraser clung to Ray, his fingers caressing the nape of his neck, his eyes downcast. "I'm saying, I love you as well, Ray. So much more than I thought myself still capable of. It's so irrational, impractical -- I didn't, I couldn't -- let myself believe you felt the same way." 

Tentatively sliding his arms around Ben's waist, wrapping them both up in his blanket, Ray huffed a rueful laugh. "You're a big idiot, Mountie." 

"I'm afraid you're quite right," Fraser looked up at Ray, eyes shining, an affectionate yet hesitant smile on his lips. "I should have trusted you. Can you ever forgive me?" 

Feeling the grin take over his face, Ray squeezed Ben tightly and tilted his head to press a tender kiss to his mouth. He tasted of tea and of Ben, and Ray relished the flavour of him. He had missed it more than he cared to admit and quickly deepened the kiss to feel more of him, to put everything he felt into it. He hoped Ben got it now, understood how much this meant. From the way he was kissing him back -- desperately, like he was starving for it, for him -- Ray figured he just might. 

****

Kissing Ray again, being able to hold him in his arms was intoxicating and Fraser wasn't sure he could let him go again. They stood in the middle of his cabin, hands everywhere, sharing heated kisses, the blanket long since abandoned on the floor. Breaking their kiss with a gasp, Fraser felt a wave of dizziness overcome him and he swayed.

"Whoa…" Ray clutched him, steadying him. "Damn, we should get you lying down," he urged, his fingers stroking over the bandage covering his right temple. 

"I'm fine, Ray, really," Fraser tried to argue, only to be silenced by another sweet kiss. He leaned forward when Ray pulled away, his soft noise of protest eliciting an amused chuckle. 

"Bed, Ben," Ray encouraged gently. He took his hand and tugged him towards the corner. 

"Ray, really, it's just a scratch, you needn't worry, I'm--" 

Ray silenced him once more with a finger to his lips. "Did I say anything about going to bed alone? Or stopping?" He raised an eyebrow and grinned. "I would prefer that I make your knees weak, rather than the bullet wound you got for being a reckless idiot. So come on, Ben, bed." He gently pushed Fraser to sit and took hold of his hands in both of his own, lifting them up to kiss his palms. "You've been trying to look after me this whole time, even if you did go about it all wrong. So let me take care of you now." 

Fraser gazed up at Ray, hardly able to believe how such a man could love him, would look at him with such adoration in his beautiful eyes. It was more than he deserved but everything he had ever wanted. Meekly nodding his head, he smiled, "Alright, Ray… I'm all yours." 

" _Mine._ " Ray's face lit up and he bent over Fraser to kiss him. His tongue slipped past his lips, languidly exploring his mouth and brushing over his one crooked tooth as Fraser moaned wantonly into it. 

Letting himself be pushed back onto the bed, Fraser kept hold of Ray and tugged him to lie flush with him, their bodies twining, as though they belonged together. Ray's thigh pushed between his legs and he ground his hips up into him, groaning at the friction and pressure on his groin. His hands slid under Ray's shirt, stroking the taut muscles of his back, marvelling at the hidden strength of Ray's firm, slender frame. 

Ray shifted above him, a playful smile on his face as he kissed Fraser deeply, tongue plunging into his mouth fervently, his erection pressing into the hollow between Fraser's thigh and hip. Tugging at Ray's shirt, Fraser tried to remove it only for it to get stuck over his head prompting a delighted laugh from Ray when he growled in frustration.

"Hang on, Ben, here," Ray sat back, straddling Fraser's legs as he managed to unfasten enough of the buttons to pull it over his head. Then he divested himself of his undershirt as well. 

Running his hands up Ray's toned torso, feeling him shudder beneath his hands, Fraser licked his lips. His own erection throbbed in time with his heartbeat, trapped in the tight prison of his trousers. 

Ray grinned wolfishly down at him, his long fingers caressing the obvious bulge of Fraser's crotch slowly, pulling a choked gasp from Fraser's parted lips.

"Good God, Ray, I've missed you," he breathed, sitting up to wrap his arms around Ray's slighter body, pulling him into an eager wet kiss. He broke it to tilt Ray's head slightly, licking a warm wet line along the stubble of his jaw, stopping to nibble at his earlobe.

Ray moaned, his hands scrabbling over Fraser's shirt and he let out a noise of exasperation that vibrated all the way down to Fraser’s groin, making his dick twitch. "Off, off. off," Ray entreated brazenly, tugging at the shirt. "Want to see you."

Fraser didn't need to be asked twice and stripped off his shirt. Ray’s resulting hungry expression made his face heat. His eager eyes roamed up and down his body and his mouth curved up into a wolfish grin. 

"You've no idea how hot you are," Ray uttered, biting his lower lip, his eyes dark with want. "How much I've wanted to…" he trailed off, pressing flush to Fraser, kissing the sensitive skin of his neck just below his ear so tenderly that it brought a lump to Fraser's throat. 

He let his eyes close, a breathy moan escaping as Ray pushed his hands over his chest, his thumbs catching the nubs of his nipples. He couldn't stop his whimper when Ray ducked his head and licked over his left nipple, catching it gently in his teeth and sucking as it hardened in response. When he switched to the right, Fraser let out a low moan, his whole body shivering. 

"Ray, I want you…"

"You got me, Ben." Ray lifted his head up and claimed his mouth again with a hot deep kiss, swallowing another moan. 

"In… inside me." Fraser panted. His hand slipped between Ray's legs, massaging his hard length. That pulled a strangled groan from deep in Ray’s throat, erotic to Fraser’s ears. 

Eyes wide, cheeks flushed, Ray gazed at Ben and cupped his cheek, his thumb brushing over his lower lip. "You sure? We haven't…" 

Nodding, Fraser took Ray's hand and kissed his palm. "Have you had lovers since Stella, since John?" 

Ray shook his head.

"I have not taken a lover in over two years. I trust you," Fraser playfully licked Ray's fingertips. "Please?" He sucked two of his fingers into his mouth, tongue swirling over the calluses of his fingertips. 

Ray whined and freed his hand. Then, moving quickly, he opened the buttons of Fraser’s fly in three quick tugs. He slipped his hand beneath the waistband and Fraser exhaled sharply as his penis was enveloped in the warmth of Ray's hand. "Pants off." 

Fraser let Ray go and laid back, lifting his hips as Ray tugged off his pants and boxers. He watched as Ray pulled off his own trousers and crawled, naked, up his body with an almost feral look on his face. "You're beautiful, Ray," he breathed in awe, his hand reaching to stroke through the messy tangle of golden hair on his head. 

Smiling and ducking his head shyly, a blush colouring his light skin, Ray pressed open mouthed kisses over Fraser's stomach. Slowly he moved down lower, his tongue dipping into his navel pulling a groan from Fraser. 

He lifted his head and stared down at Ray who met his gaze with a heated one of his own and then winked at him. Then he dipped his head to lick the full length of Fraser's now very erect penis, causing a dribble of pre-come to bead at the top. Fraser's head dropped back onto the pillow as he moaned. He could feel every lick, every flex of that talented tongue. Thankfully, Ray didn't tease him for long before his mouth was wrapped around him, sucking eagerly. 

Fraser cried out as Ray’s tongue pressed over the slit at the head, before swirling around it. His hand cupped and massaged his testicles tenderly, slipping behind them to press a finger against his perineum, eliciting a strangled yell from Fraser. His arm came up to cover his face as he bit his lip hard in an effort not to come right there and then. He wasn’t going to last long like this. “Ray, Ray, Ray, please!” he pleaded, his hips jerking up as Ray's finger shifted lower and teased the sensitive opening with his finger tip. “Won’t last… if you… oh, goodness… keep doing that.”

Pulling off with a slick pop, Ray gave him a self-satisfied grin and leaned over him to kiss him deeply, forcing the faintly salty taste of himself over his tongue. “Do you have um…slick?” Ray asked hesitantly, in between playfully licking and nibbling at Fraser’s mouth. 

“Yes, bedside drawer.” 

Ray shifted off him leaving Fraser bereft and cold as he rummaged through the drawer and retrieved the small jar of vaseline. “Proper preparation, Corporal?” he teased. He dipped his fingers into the jar slowly in a manner that was deliberately suggestive, a knowing grin plastered on his face and a twinkle in his eyes as he gazed down at Fraser. 

“Always, Ray.” Fraser could feel the heat of his blush, as he watched Ray perform that lascivious act, knowing it was covering most of his body. 

“That blush goes all the way down, huh?” 

Laughing breathlessly, Fraser had no response as Ray kissed him and covered his body once more, tugging him to lie on his side so they were face to face, his hand sliding between his legs. 

“Tell me if it’s uncomfortable.”

Swallowing, Fraser nodded and pulled Ray into a deep, wanton kiss, a guttural sound escaping his throat as Ray’s slender, slicked fingers reached behind him and dipped between his butt cheeks, gently circling the opening there. Instinctively he curled a leg over Ray's hips and pushed onto it. Ray took the hint, sliding a finger in past the ring of muscle, gently penetrating before adding a second finger. 

“So good…” Fraser mumbled, eyes lidded as he rocked his hips, his penis twitching every time Ray moved his hand, curling his fingers inside him just so to send jolts of pleasure through his entire body. “Ngh, Ray, more…” 

“Oh yeah, I'm all over that.” His own breathing ragged, his pupils blown, Ray carefully pulled his fingers free. Reaching for the vaseline once more, he stroked his hard length, coating it liberally before moving to lie behind Fraser. He coaxed Fraser’s leg to bend up and pressed against his back, kissing his neck as his hand gripped his hip. “Ready?” 

“Please, now.” 

Nipping his shoulder, Ray spooned up behind him, his hand lifting off Fraser’s hip to grip his own penis as he pushed purposefully against him. Fraser turned his head into his pillow, muffling his cry as Ray entered him slowly, steadily, the pressure relentless, unwavering. The initial pain and discomfort rippled through him and he pushed back, bearing against it, forcing himself to breathe and relax with a whimper. Ray stopped and held himself deep inside, unmoving, his soft lips kissing over Fraser’s neck, whispering nonsense at him until he relaxed. 

“Oh God, Raaay… move, I need…” 

Ray did just that, pulling back slightly before rocking his hips, sliding in and out, sending a hot zing of pleasure right down to Fraser’s toes with each and every thrust. His movements picked up momentum as Fraser pushed back against him with increasing fervour, the sounds of their mutual pleasure filling the cabin. 

Lost in the rhythmic motion of Ray's hips and the pleasure each movement sent shooting through his body, a strangled cry vibrated through Fraser’s chest when Ray grabbed his penis and stroked it firmly in time with his thrusts. With Ray's breath harsh in his ear, Fraser came undone in his arms shouting Ray’s name intermingled with 'yes' and 'oh God,' over and over again. 

Grabbing his hip again, Ray thrust through Fraser’s climax with abandon. He pushed Fraser almost fully onto his front, his cocked leg angling his body perfectly so Ray hit his prostate with each and every rock of his hips. Fraser's body rocked with every thrust and his fingers curled into the bedding as he held on through the dizzying waves of pleasure. Ray's own release came only a few moments later, his whole body going rigid, his hands holding on to Fraser’s hips tight enough to bruise as he came with a grunt and a sigh. 

The sudden rush of liquid heat hitting his prostate gave Fraser a dry orgasm and he moaned desperately, the sensation teetering on the edge of too much.

Ray rested his forehead between Fraser’s shoulder blades, his whole body trembling with release. “Good God, Ben.” 

“Indeed…” Panting, unable to move, feeling utterly boneless, Fraser groaned out his agreement. His fingers curled tightly around Ray’s reaching hand, their fingers entwining as Ray sagged, half draped over him. Fraser let out a sigh and shuddered when Ray rolled his hips and slipped free. 

Satiated and warm, with Ray spooned flush against his back and aching rear, sweat cooling on his skin, Fraser let himself drift as he caught his breath, his heart gradually calming down. Soothed by the soft thud of Ray’s heart against his back and the affectionate lazy kisses being pressed along the back of his neck, he was lulled into sleep, the dull pain in his head long forgotten. 

****

Fraser woke up slowly, feeling more rested than he had in several weeks, in spite of the wound on his head. He blinked groggily, and realised that at some point Ray had covered them both with a blanket and was now curled beside him, long limbs wrapped possessively around his body, his face peaceful in sleep. He smiled fondly and caressed Ray’s face, hardly able to believe he was here with him. 

He sighed when the call of nature beckoned and carefully extricated himself from Ray’s tangle of limbs, smiling when Ray mumbled sleepily in protest and proceeded to hug his pillow. Naked, he padded to his closet and threw on a fresh pair of long underwear and then quickly pulled on his outdoor coat and boots. The outhouse was barely a meter away but the temperatures were nothing to be sniffed at. 

Upon his return he stoked the fire until it glowed amber and placed a couple of fresh logs on the embers which crackled and flamed in the heat. Removing his coat, he grimaced at the angry grumbling of his stomach, remembering he hadn’t eaten the previous day after his injury. Heading to the stove, he began to heat a pot of stew he had prepared previously and leaned against the table beside it to gaze across the room at the lump of blankets that was Ray in his bed. He needed to change the bedding after the previous night's amorous activities.“Ray?” he uttered softly. “Ray, Ray, Ray, Ray?”

“Mm, whuh?” a muffled murmur sounded from beneath the heap and Ray’s blonde head appeared, his eyes blinking fuzzily at Fraser. “Ben, why aren’t you in bed?” 

“It’s morning, Ray, we slept through the night and I got hungry. Would you like some coffee?” 

“Yeah, thanks,” Ray mumbled, rubbing his face sleepily but making no move to free himself from his nest of blankets. 

Fraser busied himself at the stove, building up the courage to ask the questions whose answers he was afraid to hear. Taking a hot cup of coffee over to the bed he perched on the edge. It was enough to tempt Ray to emerge and sit up, accepting the cup with a grateful smile. Losing his nerve, Fraser got up once more and headed back to the stove, steadily stirring the stew that didn’t need him standing over it. 

“Ben? You okay?” 

Bowing his head slightly, Fraser sighed and turned around, keeping his gaze fixed on a spot on the floor ahead of him. “Yes.”

“I only ask because you don’t seem okay,” Ray hesitated, the uncertainty evident in his small voice. "Do you regret what we did?"

"No! Not in the least." Fraser looked up at Ray then and saw the worry and concern written plainly all over his face. “I was just wondering, how long you were planning on staying.” The words all came out in a rush and he averted his gaze, embarrassed by how needy it sounded. 

“As long as you’ll have me.”

His eyes snapped up in surprise at the steady words and he gazed at Ray searchingly. That couldn’t mean what he thought it meant -- could it? “Ray, I--” he stumbled over his words, unable to articulate what he was feeling.

Ray gave him a wry grin and cocked his head at him. “What did you think I wanted when I told you I loved you, you big dumb Mountie?” 

“But your family?”

“Look, Ben, I’m not saying this is going to be easy. But it’s worth trying for, right? Worth making the most of every minute we have right now?” 

“I… yes, Ray, yes.” Fraser felt himself relax a fraction. No it wouldn’t be easy and if he could only have Ray for the time he was in Dawson, then so be it. He could live in the moment and cherish the memories forever if he had to. 

“C’mere.” Ray put his coffee on the bedside table and held out a hand, a warm inviting smile on his face. “Come back to bed, I need warming up.” 

Chuckling at Ray’s unsubtle hint and subsequent wink, Fraser took the stew off the heat and went back to bed. He didn't leave again until he was absolutely certain Ray was as warmed up as he could possibly be without suffering heat stroke.

****

The days rolled together for Ray. Staying with Ben was sheer greatness. As the Yukon winter settled like an icy blanket over the land, covering everything in a thick layer of snow and ice, the more settled he felt. As well as increasingly snug, sated, and wanted in Ben’s cabin. He didn’t miss the city’ he found he didn’t miss Chicago as he once had. He didn’t even miss Stella or work or his parents. Well, he missed his mom a little, but once she’d found out about his conversation with his father, Ray was mostly positive she would understand his absence. He had stopped short of outrightly admitting his relationship with Ben to her. That talk could wait for when he was more mentally prepared for the backlash and heartache it would cause. 

Ben still had to work once he’d recovered and he always offered to take Ray to town when he went. On the odd occasion, Ray did go, but usually only to reassure his mom he was still alive and to pick up any supplies they needed. If anybody noticed Ray disappearing whenever Ben clocked off duty, nobody mentioned it. Ray wouldn’t have cared if they had. (All right, they would be handled with a swift kick in the head -- but that was no hardship.) 

He knew he could get used to living and writing in the cabin when Ben was at work... To learning how to dog sled and walk in snowshoes when Ben was home... To sitting by a toasty fire or snuggling with Ben in bed... making love almost every night. And God did his Mountie know how to make love! This was the life he’d wanted with Stella and perhaps John once upon a time. There was no doubt in Ray’s mind now, though, that Ben was it for him. When you were rapidly approaching forty, life didn’t give too many second chances and Ray intended to grab hold of this one with both hands.

With the cold darkness of winter came the eventual bustle and excitement of Christmas. Ray was glad that Canadians got just as excited about it as Americans did, though when he thought about it, he couldn’t see why he’d ever thought they wouldn’t. 

Ray had only realised how close Christmas was one morning when, after getting up later than Ben, as usual, he’d stepped outside all layered up against the cold, and noticed a beautiful wreath hung on the front door of the cabin. He grinned, touching the leaves and berries and jumping when strong warm arms slid around his waist from behind. 

“Do you like it?” 

“Yeah, where’d you get it? I saw them selling some in town.”

“I made it,” Ben rested his chin on Ray’s shoulder and nuzzled his ear as he spoke. “I thought as it’s my day off today, we could do a little Christmas shopping in town.” 

Sipping his warm coffee and leaning into the furnace that was Benton Fraser, Ray grinned. “Yeah, that sounds good. Been meaning to get my mom something so she doesn’t think I’ve abandoned her entirely.” 

Ben let out a soft hum. “Have you spoken to your father yet?”

Ray’s smile faded. “No, and I don’t want to.”

“Ray…”

“No, Ben.” Ray pushed back, turning in his arms. “He needs to learn,” he declared firmly.

“It is nearly Christmas, Ray, Christmas Eve in fact,” Ben reminded gently, a hand lightly stroking through Ray’s unruly hair. 

“All the more reason to stand my ground.” Ray gave Ben a pointed look. “Don’t push me on this, Ben. He almost ruined this for us.” 

Relenting, Ben leaned in and kissed him sweetly and pulled back with a small, 'I know when I'm beat,' smile. “The dogs are ready to go when you are, Ray.”

“How’d you know I’d say yes?” 

“It’s Christmas Eve and I know you, Ray.” Ben kissed him quickly and threw a knowing look over his shoulder as he headed to the barn.

Ray smiled and ducked his head bashfully. That he couldn't argue with. Ben did know him, inside and out.

****

Ray had always loved Christmas, mostly thanks to his mom. She always went out of her way to make it special and he felt guilty that he wasn't going to spend this Christmas with her. Not guilty enough, however, to start talking to his father again. He was still angry and knew that their relationship was teetering on the brink. The next time they spoke could literally be it for them and Ray wasn't sure he could bring himself to do that just yet. Especially not right before Christmas. 

Dawson City seemed to come alive with the spirit of Christmas. Apparently even gold miners needed a break and some cheer -- albeit most of their cheer happened at Welsh’s. Ben had dropped Ray off at the depot and gone to do his own thing, promising to meet him later. Ray was meandering through Dawson City’s meager selection of shops.

In spite of the lack of choice, Ray had found a nice scarf for his mom. The one she currently had was threadbare and couldn’t possibly keep her very warm. Now, though, he struggled to find something he could give to Ben. He wasn’t even sure they were exchanging gifts. He was probably being silly and romantic. However, after the difficult weeks they’d had, he wanted to get Ben something nice. Ray had a feeling that no matter what, Ben wouldn’t think it silly. 

After he’d finished he went to see his mom. She didn’t deserve the silent treatment because of his dad. 

“Stanley!” 

“Hi, mom,” he smiled when she hugged him tightly. 

“How have you been? Are you hungry?” 

“I’m good. No, no, I’m not hungry. I just came by to give you this, for Christmas.” He held out the paper wrapped parcel with a shy smile. 

“Oh, sweetheart,” his mom gushed. “You didn’t have to.” 

“Course I did, it’s Christmas.” 

Barbara pinned her son with a shrewd gaze. “Have you spoken to your father?” 

“No. We talked about this, mom,” Ray sighed, putting his hands on his hips. “I got nothing to say to him.” 

“Stanley, he is your father.”

“So? I doubt he has anything to say to me, either.”

“Well, not while you're staying with…” Barbara trailed off, her face flushing as she fingered the parcel nervously. 

“Fraser?” Ray’s face darkened and he scowled deeply. “Mom, you can say his name.”

“I just worry about you, Stanley. I just want you to be happy.” 

Wilting, Ray took hold of his mom’s hands. “I am happy, Mom, please see that,” he implored. 

Raising her hand to cup his cheek, Barbara gazed at him wistfully.Her eyes were wet as she studied his face, as only a mother can. “You are, aren’t you,” she stated gently. “He’s taking care of you up there?”

Relaxing a fraction, Ray broke into a grin. “Yeah, he is, Mom. Fraser…” He ducked his head, feeling shy. “...Ben is a good man.” 

Sniffling and pulling a hand away to dab a handkerchief at her eyes, Barbara put her package down and unexpectedly tugged Stanley into a tight embrace. “I love you, Stanley. It never made any difference to me, you must know that.” She kissed his cheek tenderly. “I’ll talk to your father, okay?” 

Surprised at first, Ray melted at her words and folded into the hug gratefully, squeezing her in his arms. “Thanks, Mom,” he replied thickly. Pulling back he kissed her forehead. “I got to go, I said I’d meet him soon. You stay warm, and I’ll see you after Christmas alright?” 

“Alright, Stanley. Before you go, I made you both something.” 

Ray watched his mum potter about at the back of the hut and pull out a cake box. Coming back she held it out to him. "Piernik, your favourite. For you and…uh Ben to share on Christmas day." 

Peering into the box at the traditional Polish gingerbread cake, Ray's heart swelled. Just when he thought he couldn't love his mom any more. "You didn't have to, mom." 

"Oh don't be silly, it was no trouble and we only get Christmas once a year." Barbara squeezed his hands before letting him go. “I love you, Stanley.”

“Love you, Mom.” Ray waved farewell and stepped out into the twilight. Feeling a little lighter, as though a weight had been lifted, Ray found himself smiling as he strolled to meet Fraser. For once even the Yukon winter didn’t feel quite so cold. 

****

Come Christmas morning, Ray woke up to a warm, golden cabin. He stretched out under the cocoon of blankets he had made himself and frowned as he reached across the bed only to find it empty. He peered at the place where Ben should have been. Pushing the blankets down, he frowned and looked around the cabin. 

Blinking, he rubbed his eyes and sat up slowly as he took in the sight of a small tree in the corner by the door and decorated with berries, holly and mistletoe. Around the base there were several large candles that were flickering gently. Ray stared, mouth open, as he saw more candles placed safely around the cabin. It was then that he noticed the wonderful smell of something cooking on the stove. Ben had obviously been up a while. 

He got up and quickly dressed. The cabin was glowing with the fire burning brightly and Ray padded silently across the cabin to open the door and peer outside. He could hear the dogs barking in the barn but no sign of Ben. He shivered as the icy wind crept under his skin and seemed to sink into his bones. Shutting the door again, he headed to the stove and found a pot of coffee already hot and his cup clean on the side. He peeked into the large pot and found the source of that delicious smell, a gently bubbling stew. Ray’s stomach grumbled when he took a deep sniff. 

Picking up his coffee, he checked the time on his pocket watch. It was still morning and he couldn’t help but wonder where Ben had gone. Leaning back against the counter though, he didn’t worry. Wherever Ben was, it was probably for a good reason and he would be back. Taking in the sight of the cabin and spotting a neatly wrapped gift under the modest tree, Ray couldn’t stop smiling. He’d told Ben all about Christmases in Chicago and how much effort his mom always took to make the day special. 

Ben had had no stories of Christmas that were familiar to Ray. Being from the territories his Christmases had been quite different. Ray must’ve told the stories with more excitement than he’d thought if Ben had gone to all this trouble on Christmas Eve and to do it all while he slept. It was romantic, for want of a better word; warmth bloomed in Ray’s chest and he no longer noticed the chill of the floor through his stockinged feet. 

“Ray! You’re up,” Ben’s voice broke through his reverie. 

“And where’ve you been?” he asked playfully as Ben shrugged off his fur layers and hung up his coat. “Where’s Dief?”

“I had to feed the dogs and get something for dinner. Dief has found a better offer, I think.” Ben smiled brightly at him as he took off his boots and made his way over. Before Ray could ask about that, Ben’s mouth was on his and his insistent tongue dipped between his lips to caress his tongue in a way that made Ray’s knees wobbly. 

“Wolves have all the fun,” Ray laughed at Ben’s raised eyebrow when they broke apart. “How long you been up?”

“A few hours,” Ben replied bashfully. 

Shaking his head, Ray pressed a sweet kiss to Ben’s shy smile and chuckled. “You did all this for me?” 

“Yes, I thought it best to take advantage of you being such a deep sleeper,” Ben teased gently, curling an arm around Ray’s waist as they looked over the cabin. “Do you like it?” 

Closing his eyes and inhaling deeply with a serene smile on his face, Ray nodded., “I love it,” he put his coffee down and shifted to press fully against his lover, hands sliding slowly yet deliberately under Ben’s shirt, fingertips dancing over his warm skin. “I love you,” he added huskily. 

“Oh,” Ben gazed at him with amusement twinkling in his bright blue eyes, an arm sliding around Ray’s waist as another stroked through his untidy hair. “Do I get this treatment every time I do something nice for you?” 

Laughing and nibbling playfully at Ben’s full lower lip, Ray rolled his hips enticingly. “You can have this treatment any time you want.” 

“Any time?” Ben asked just as playfully, his tongue teasing Ray’s lips. 

“ _Any_ time,” Ray smiled seductively as he started to walk backwards to the bed, his fingers curled into the belt loops of Ben’s trousers, tugging Ben along with him. “Any place.”

“I’m a lucky man,” Ben responded huskily, eyes dark with want. 

“That you are, Benton Fraser,” Ray grinned. “I don’t put out for just any guy who’s nice to me you know.”

“You don't?” Ben asked with an impish grin. 

Ray barked a laugh, swatted Ben’s chest, and tugged him onto the bed, rolling over the top of him. “No, smart ass. You got to be a special kind of nice. And it really helps if you’re a Mountie and have a wolf.”

“That’s very specific, Ray.” 

Ray grinned and brushed his lips over Ben’s, enjoying the way he groaned in response and ground up against him. “I’m a specific kinda guy,” he murmured, kissing Ben deeply.

****

Some time later, after Ray had allowed Ben to finally leave their bed - when he had started thinking of it as _their_ bed he did not know - Ben had prepared a small feast for them. Some weird, shot-that-morning ptarmigan stew and vegetables. Ray didn't ask where he'd gotten those in the middle of winter. He'd even managed to bake some amazing-smelling bread rolls that made Ray's mouth water. Ray had helped as much as he could, but Ben was apparently just as bossy in the kitchen as he was when he was on duty. So Ray had given up and instead warmed some cider that Ben had specially bought from Welsh. 

As Ben dished out the food, Ray sat at the table, eagerly waiting for him to sit before tucking in. He let out a groan of enjoyment as he ate, praising the food and Ben’s cooking. It made sense that he was just as capable in the kitchen as he was with everything else he put his mind to, not that Ray could complain. “This is great, Ben.”

“Really? You like it?” 

“Like it? I love it! This is one of the best Christmas dinners I’ve had in a long time and don’t you dare tell my mom that.” 

Ben tittered and ducked his head modestly. “I wouldn’t dream of it, Ray. Though her cake is wonderful, I hope I get a chance to thank her.” He sipped at the warm cider and hummed thoughtfully. “This is nice -- I never would have thought to heat it up.”

“Warms you right down to your toes,” Ray agreed, drinking his own. 

“I already have you for that, Ray.” 

Ray gazed at Ben and knew he was grinning at him stupidly. “Who knew you were such a romantic?” 

“I am as surprised as you are,” Ben answered dryly. He got up, brushing a hand over Ray’s shoulder as he walked past. 

Giving his hand a squeeze, Ray turned and cocked his head curiously at Ben as he crouched by the tree and picked up the small gift he’d noticed there. 

“I hope you don’t mind, Ray but I took the liberty of -- well, it is Christmas and I didn’t want you to feel pressured to get me anything -- but I wanted to, to get you something.” He looked down at the parcel in his hands, shy hesitation creasing his brow. 

Getting up, Ray closed the distance between them and placed his hands over Ben’s. “I got you something too. It’s small, but I saw it and wanted to get you something.” 

Beaming at him happily, Ben folded the gift into Ray’s hands and waited expectantly. 

Grinning, Ray peeled back the paper and pulled out a firm leather pouch, intricately stitched, with a pattern etched into its smooth surface. Opening the pouch, he tipped out a beautiful brass compass. It was polished gold and engraved on the back: 

_Go confidently in the direction of your dreams. Live the life you have imagined - Thoreau_

Ray looked up at Ben with bright eyes, before looking back down and opening up the compass. Inside the lid was another engraving which he read aloud. “Follow the red arrow, because this shows the way to me.” Ray stroked his fingers over it tentatively and licked his lips. “Ben,” he swallowed, his voice raspy. “It’s beautiful.”

“I remember you saying how you felt lost, so I wanted to get you something to show that you’re never lost, not really...You truly like it?” 

At the quiet question, Ray curled a hand about the back of Ben’s neck and pulled him in for a tender kiss. He gazed into his eyes when they parted. “I really do. You’ve no idea how much.” 

Ben kissed him again sweetly, his beatific smile lighting up his whole face -- just when Ray didn’t think Ben could look any more gorgeous. 

“Hang on, let me get mine.” He pulled away and rummaged through his bag. “Here.” He handed the flat parcel to Ben, who carefully unwrapped it. Ray watched as his fingers freed the gift from its wrapping and caressed the soft leather binding of the new journal. He fidgeted nervously when Ben didn’t say anything for a few moments. “I saw that you write a journal, and yours was looking pretty beat up and almost full, so I thought you might, um…” 

“Ray, I love it. Thank you so much.” 

Their ardent gazes met, tender smiles broadening, until Ray rubbed the back of his neck and reached out to take Ben’s present and put it with his own on the table. “Come here.” He took Ben's hand and curled his other arm around his waist and began to sway gently with him, his feet shifting with practised moves over the worn wooden floor. 

Ben moved gracefully, Ray leading him around the room effortlessly as though they’d done it a thousand times before. Smiling, Ray rested his cheek against Ben's as they danced together in the soft candlelight of the cabin. It really was the best Christmas Ray had ever had and hopefully the first of many more to come. 

****

Unfortunately, as with all things, Christmas passed, the new year arrived, and Ray had to go back to work. The nights were still long and winter was still freezing, but Ray was content for the first time in a long time. 

Macpherson was glad not to have him biting everybody’s head off, and was pleased with his article on the new White Pass and Yukon Trail railroad being built between Skagway and Whitehorse. It would make the Chilkoot pass obsolete once it was finished, and fueled a great deal of excitement in the city. 

Ray also broke the story that a new gold mine had been discovered in Nome Alaska -- and gold fervour increased throughout the city. Many of the miners packed up and rushed out of the city, to be one of the first to try and lay a claim to a mine themselves. The chaotic upheaval kept Ben busy long after his shifts had ended. 

Ray didn’t mind though. Ben always came home to the cabin whenever he finished and Ray made sure to greet him no matter how late it was. If he fell asleep waiting, he always ensured the fire was burning so Ben wouldn’t come home to a cold cabin. He spent many of his evenings either writing or talking to Dief, sometimes both, while he waited. 

Things were still tense between him and his father and Ray knew he had to face that sooner rather than later. In his typical fashion, however, Ray kept putting it off and avoiding his father whenever he was in town. It hurt to think he would very likely lose his father over his relationship with Ben, but he wasn’t giving Ben up for all the gold in the Yukon. 

After finishing work one day, Ray had finally built up the nerve to visit his parents. He’d told Ben that morning that he planned to stay the night, to try to talk things out with them. Ben, being Ben, had fully supported that decision. However, Ray’s dad had been busy and his mom had told him something that had stunned him. Throwing his plans out of the window, he ventured into Frannie’s to grab a coffee and to order his thoughts, not entirely sure how he felt about his mom’s news. 

“Hi, Ray. Penny for your thoughts,” Frannie smiled at him as she poured him coffee. 

“Hi, Frannie.” Ray sat at the counter and curled his fingers about his hot coffee cup. “Just got something on my mind, something my mom told me.” 

“Oh, is it bad news?” 

Ray shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe.” 

Frannie placed her hand over his and patted it encouragingly. “Tell me all about it.” 

****

Fraser had finally managed to finish work on time and had stepped out of the depot before anything else could claim his time. He caught sight of Ray heading into Francesca’s Roadhouse and smiled ruefully. Ray had been very patient with how busy things had been of late and Fraser was really hoping that he would get some time to make it up to him. Even though he was staying with his parents that evening, it would be nice to eat together just like they used to when they had first met.

Strolling over, he heard Ray’s voice when he reached the door. The words he heard, however, stopped him in his tracks and he stepped out of sight and listened attentively. 

“They’re packing up our things in the hut. Loading the wagons. It’s this gold mine in Alaska, right? Dad thinks it has more prospects, plus it’s America -- and you know my dad.” 

“I know, Ray. What did your mother say about it?”

“Well, she’s excited. I think she secretly likes travelling.”

“How soon?”

“They’ve just started packing. They loaded my wagon first, even though I told them I could have helped them with it. It’ll take a day, I think, and then that’s it.”

“Do you think leaving Dawson is the best choice?” 

“I don’t know, maybe. Like I said, my mom seems really positive and based on what I know, I think there’s better prospects at that new mine.” 

“God, it feels so sudden.”

“Yeah, tell me about it. I’m not sure how I feel to be honest. I said I’d stay with them tonight, help them finish packing up.” 

At the sound of Ray’s rough voice catching on the words, thick with emotion, Fraser couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think and he bit down on his lip hard to prevent a sob from escaping. He blindly shifted away from the door, eyes hot and stinging. He pressed his back up against the wall of the building, squeezing his eyes shut to stop the tears from falling and wrapped his arms around his middle. His stomach was in knots and pain stabbed through his chest. Packing up? Leaving Dawson City? 

He’d always known this day would come. He had just hoped it wouldn’t be quite so soon. Opening his eyes, he tried to calm his racing heart -- and clenched his fists. It made sense -- of course it made sense. There were definitely better prospects in Alaska and nothing he could offer Ray could compete. As much as it hurt, he knew what he had to do. Slowing down his breathing, he pushed off the wall with a stagger and stopped for a moment to take a deep steadying breath. Finally, he forced himself to walk, in a daze, back to the depot, not quite ready to go back to the cabin.

Stepping into the depot, he was immediately beckoned by Inspector Frobisher. 

“Benton, you’re here. I thought you’d gone home.”

Fraser stared past the older man, his body numb, his brain barely registering Frobisher’s words. “Well, I had...” He choked out, unable to say much more than that. 

“Good, good, you got a telegram.” 

Stiffening to attention in an attempt to mask his distress, he accepted the slip. Upon reading it, Fraser’s eyebrows shot up and he met Frobisher’s apprising gaze with wide disbelieving eyes. “A transfer?” 

Canting his head thoughtfully at him, Frobisher gave him a small smile. “Fort McPherson, Inuvik. It’s back home, Benton. They need a man who knows the area, and you are the best man for the job.” 

“I can go home?” he whispered, unable to prevent the trembling of his voice. 

“It’s about time if you ask me, son.”

A lump had formed in his throat and Fraser swallowed, forcing out his question as steadily as he could. “When?” 

“They need somebody by next week. How soon can you leave?” 

“In the morning. First thing,” Fraser clenched his jaw resolutely, his answer clipped and immediate.

Frobisher nodded and held out his hand. “It’s been a pleasure, Benton. Your father would be proud.” 

“Thank you, Sir. It’s been an honour.” Fraser replied stiffly, he couldn’t quite believe the timing. But it would be for the best in the long run. To see Ray once more to say goodbye -- and _still let him go_ \-- wasn’t something he could do. His body ached with the tension of trying not to break down in the depot. He felt like he’d been kicked in the chest and each breath took conscious effort. He blinked several times in an attempt to alleviate the hot stinging dryness of his eyes at the thought of losing Ray. He simply wasn’t a strong enough man.

“Ah, Benton?”

“Yes Sir?”

“Are you telling the yank?” 

“Ray?” Fraser coughed, his throat as dry as sandpaper and his breath caught in his throat. Tearing his eyes away from Frobisher’s scrutinising gaze, he stared down at the telegram in his shaking hands and quickly reverted to parade rest. Looking up, he didn’t quite meet Frobisher’s eyes, keeping his gaze fixed on the man’s Sam Brown. His voice sounded rough, broken even to him and he viciously suppressed a wince. “I don’t think it’s necessary now, Sir. Ray has, ah, already made plans of his own. I’ll leave a note.” 

Blinking with bewildered surprise, Frobisher just inclined his head in a half nod. “As you wish. Safe travels, Ben.” 

****

Ray woke up with a headache. His night had not gone as planned. Between packing up their belongings, Ray and his parents hadn’t really gotten a chance to talk and he’d passed out before he and his father could really do more than grunt at each other in passing. He had to face the music though, especially now that his parents were leaving. It made it both harder and easier to face his father. 

Getting up, he noticed his father at the table and his mother conspicuously absent, probably giving them privacy. Ray was glad they’d said their goodbyes the previous night. Bathing quickly and dressing himself, he sat at the table cautiously with a coffee in his hand. “Dad.”

“Raymond.” 

“You must be excited about this new mine, huh?”

Damian grunted and nodded. “Better prospects, son.”

“Sure, I get that.” Ray braced himself. “You… you know I can’t come with you.” 

Damian bowed his head, not looking at Ray. “I know, Son.” 

Ray tugged at his own collar and scrubbed at his damp hair. “I’m still mad at what you tried to do, between Ben and I.”

Nodding, eyes downcast, Damian let out a long sigh. “I know.” 

Getting rapidly annoyed at his father’s seeming nonchalance, Ray fought back the urge to yell. “Well, I guess, if you have nothing to say, I’ll see myself out. Um, take care in Alaska.” Ray got up and reached for his coat. 

“Ray, wait.” Damian stood up too and faced his son. “I shouldn’t have done or said what I did.” 

“No, you shouldn't have.”

“I just wanted to protect you, that’s all I’ve ever wanted to do.”

“Dad--”

“--Please, just hear me out,” Damian met Ray’s glare and frowned. “You’re my boy, my _only_ boy and I wanted you to have a good life, successful life, a life I never could give you. I see now that our ideas of what a good life is, will never overlap and your mother says that’s something I just have to accept. I can only do that if we don’t talk about… about your choices and who you… whatever with... but you’re still my son and I wanted you to know that, before… before we left.” 

Ray stared in disbelief, his head swimming at his father’s words. He’d never even dared hope for that much, even if it did fall short of an apology. That would be asking for the impossible. “You mean that?”

Damian wilted. “You were always my son, Ray. No matter who… who you wanted to, um…”

“Love?” 

Grateful, Damian nodded. “Your mother… she says you’re happy?” 

Grinning, Ray nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I’m happy, Dad.” 

“Good, that’s, uh. Good.” 

Stepping closer, Ray enveloped his father in a hug that the older man returned awkwardly with a slap on the back. 

“Go on now, we have a long trip, your mother and I.” 

“Send a telegram to the depot here as soon as you get to Alaska, okay?” 

“I will.” 

“Be safe, Dad.” 

“You too, Son.” 

****

As it was morning, Ray headed to the depot knowing Ben would already be at work. He smiled to himself as he walked. The universe really was doing him a good turn. Climbing the steps into the depot, he greeted Turnbull and Callum on his way in. Turnbull looked like he’d had some bad news and Ray thought it best to avoid that bundle of emotion right now. He didn’t want anything to spoil his good mood. 

“Hi, Inspector Frobisher. Is, uh, Fraser here?” 

Frobisher turned around, brows raised in surprise. “Benton?” 

“Yeah, Benton Fraser, is he here? He should have started work already.” He turned sharply when Turnbull burst into tears loudly. 

“He didn’t tell you then?” Frobisher replied carefully, a frown creasing his forehead. 

Ray made a face. “Tell me what?” 

Frobisher looked torn and his lips turned down into a deep frown, “He got a transfer, son. He left this morning.” 

Ray laughed and shook his head, “Is that a joke?”

“Do I look like I’m joking?” 

Ray felt a sharp twist in his stomach and he scowled. “He wouldn’t… he wouldn’t just go without telling me… was there an emergency? When did he find out?”

“Yesterday evening,” Frobisher placed a steadying hand on his arm. “He said he would tell you himself. Did he leave a note?” 

“A note?” Ray could barely get the words out, his throat was so dry. 

“At his cabin perhaps?” 

"I haven't been back… Stayed with my folks." Ray ran both hands through his hair, panic rising along with the increasing urge to vomit up his morning coffee. Was that all he was worth? A note in the cabin? Squeezing his eyes shut, Ray tried to keep his cool but it felt like the world was spinning away from him, he was dizzy and he couldn’t hear over the blood roaring in his ears. “Take me there?” he uttered, gripping Frobisher’s arms tightly. “Please?” 

“Constable, load up the sled,” Frobisher ordered, guiding Ray to a chair and getting him to sit down while he hyperventilated. 

“Why wouldn’t he tell me?” Ray asked looking up at Frobisher. “Why would he just go?” Seeing the sympathetic gaze in Frobisher’s kindly eyes just made Ray feel worse. He knew at the back of his mind that this wasn’t the place to lose it, he was going to end up outing Fraser to the entire depot if he couldn’t keep it together. To his credit, and Ray’s gratitude, Frobisher was taking his not so minor loss of composure in his stride and was keeping the other constables occupied. 

****

The trip to Ben’s cabin was quick on the sled and Ray burst through the front door as soon as they arrived. He whirled around in a panic, finding only a cold empty shell of the home it had once been, not twenty four hours earlier. The furniture was still there, of course, but everything that had made the place Ben’s home -- blankets, books, his boots -- were all missing. The fire was dark and looked like it had been cold for a couple of hours. The bed looked like it hadn’t been slept in at all. 

Ray heard a sound, an anguished cry and fell to his knees before he realised it was himself. “How could you do this, Ben?” he called out to the empty cabin. Forcing himself to get up, his hands shaking, he went over to where he’d set up his typewriter and found a neatly addressed envelope. 

_Dearest Ray,_

_By the time you read this, I will be on my way to my new posting. The notice was sudden yet apparently fortuitous given the timing of your own departure from Dawson City. I have loved every minute of our time together and I will never forget you._

_I thought that writing this would make it easier than saying goodbye. If I had to face you, I would not have had the strength to let you go. I knew this day would come, it was my own foolish hope that I would have been enough for you to stay. Forgive a romantic fool. I will cherish the memories you’ve given me, always._

_Safe travels to Alaska, Ray, and may you find the happiness you seek and deserve._

_Yours Always_

_Ben_

Alaska? Why did Ben think he was going to Alaska. Eyes widening, Ray remembered his conversation with Frannie and realised that Ben must have finished work early and overheard it. He was rocked to his core. “Oh God, you complete moron! This is why we don’t eavesdrop, Ben, and why we communicate!” Ray ranted to the empty cabin, and crumpled the paper in his hands, then shoved it into his pocket. He grabbed his bag and his boots and his notebooks and marched out the door, where Frobisher waited for him. 

“You know where he’s gone?” 

Frobisher nodded and waited patiently, quietly studying Ray. 

“Can you track him?” 

The corner of Frobisher’s mouth curved up and he canted his head. “Yes. Are you sure you want to do this? It’ll take a couple of hours at least and there’s no clear path, we may not find him,” he cautioned.

Ray met Frobisher’s steady knowing gaze. “He’s my partner. I have to try.” 

Smiling fully now, Frobisher gave him a sharp nod and gestured to the sled. “Glad to hear it. Hop in. Daylight’s wasting.” 

Beyond grateful, Ray dropped into the sled, hugged his bag and wrapped a blanket around himself. Frobisher called out to the dogs who yipped and pulled them away from the cabin.

****

Ray hadn’t realised he’d dozed off until he was being shaken awake. It was pitch black and the stars glittered above them. Ray had never seen so many stars in his life. They’d stopped in a clearing of tall dark fir trees. Frobisher pointed through the trees where Ray could barely make out the faint orange glow of a fire. 

“He’s not there right now; he may be hunting. Be careful: it’s dark, and you don’t want to be mistaken for a bear.” Frobisher chuckled dryly.

Ray didn’t share the older Mountie’s twisted sense of humour, from what Fraser had told him bears were a very real danger, and he pulled a face at Frobisher. He got up stiffly, and grabbed his bag. “Thanks for this. Will you be okay getting back?” 

Frobisher grinned, “Oh, don’t worry about me, son. I was tracking across the tundra before you were born. Go on now, Godspeed. Tell Benton to write when he’s settled.”

Smiling gratefully, Ray nodded and began trudging through the thick snow that came up to his knees in places and ploughed his way towards the tiny camp that seemed impossibly far away. He heard Frobisher pull away, the sound of his dogs swallowed up in the inky blackness of the Canadian winter. Shivering as a sharp wind howled through the trees, Ray kept moving. 

After a short while of sinking in snowdrifts, and swearing, he finally stopped and put on the snowshoes Ben had given him. He wasn't great at walking in them but it was better than getting buried in snow and becoming a human iceberg. Not even freezing to death was going to stop him now. There was no way he was letting Ben go. He fully intended to kick him in the head for pulling this stunt and making Ray chase him across the goddamned coldest tundra on the planet, in the middle of winter. 

Finally reaching the camp, he held up his hand and pulled back his hood when the dogs growled at him. Removing his gloves, he approached carefully and let them sniff him. Recognising his scent, the dogs settled back down. Ray sat heavily on a log to wait for Ben.Taking the time to stew in his anger for a bit while he waited. 

It wasn’t too long later that he heard Ben approach and he tiredly got to his feet. Breaking through the trees from behind him, he heard a gun cock and the low menacing growl of Dief. 

“Whoever you are, put your hands where I can see them.” 

It was dark and Ray was only lit from the front by the small fire, so all Ben would be seeing was a dark figure. Slowly, he did as he was told.

“Turn around.”

Ray turned cautiously and jutted his chin up defiantly when he came face to face with Ben, his heart pumping faster at the sight of him, in spite of his anger. 

“Going to shoot me, Ben?” He ignored Dief barking happily and bouncing around him in favour of glaring angrily at his lover, his partner. He was not letting Ben off easily for this.

“Ray!” Ben’s eyes were wide, firelight reflecting in them, giving him a haunted look as he stared at Ray with a mixture of fear and astonishment.

“How could you?” he snarled out, clenching his fists at his sides. “How could you do that to me?” 

Ben looked stricken at the anger in Ray’s voice and shook his head as he approached warily. “Ray, I heard you talking to Francesca. You were leaving Dawson. What did you expect me to do? Stay and pine for you?”

“I was never leaving you!” Ray yelled, trying and failing to rein in his temper. “My parents are going to Alaska. You misheard! I’m insulted you think so little of me, to think I would just up and leave you like that! But like always, you didn’t trust me enough to come and damn well speak to me!” 

“You… you weren’t leaving?” Ben uttered with a desperate whisper.

Ray was mollified by how pale and truly horrified he saw Ben had become as he moved closer. “No, you idiot. What did you think ‘I love you Benton Fraser’ meant, huh? You _know_ I’ve only loved two people my whole life and the other one I was engaged to marry! How can you be so smart and so dumb at the same time?” 

Ben blanched, his mouth opening and closing several times, unable to form words. His bottom lip caught on his crooked tooth as he bit it nervously and reached a shaky hand out for Ray only for it to fall defeatedly by his side as he seemed to crumple with the weight of Ray’s revelation. “Oh, Ray… I’m so, so sorry. I thought it would be easier…” 

“Oh, yeah, and about _that_ note.” Ray wasn’t done and stepped into Ben’s space, relishing him tensing up in front of him. “What is this shit about not being enough for me to stay?” 

“I have nothing to offer you, Ray,” Ben replied, his voice small, despondent, his eyes refusing to meet Ray's glare. “We’ve talked about this. I never even dreamed that you would want to stay up here, never mind come to my home in the territories.” 

Grabbing Ben’s coat roughly and yanking him closer, Ray glared at Ben fiercely. “Then you need to start dreaming bigger, Ben.” He crushed his mouth against Ben’s, kissing him hard, not releasing him until he felt Ben start to tentatively yield to it. “Get this through your thick head, Mountie: I, Ray Kowalski, am never leaving you. Not ever. You, Benton Fraser, are it for me. Do you hear me?” 

Nodding meekly, a tear glistening on his pale cheek, Ben curled his arms tightly around Ray and buried his face into his neck, his voice wet. “I hear you, Ray, I hear you. I love you so much, please stay.” 

“Always, Ben, forever. But you _ever_ do this to me again, I will kick your tight ass all over this damn tundra and then feed you to Dief.” Closing his eyes, Ray held on tightly, finally letting the tension ebb from his body, leaving him trembling. His hands slid beneath Ben’s hood and petted his thick hair, tugging at it gently until Ben looked at him. “Stupid, Mountie,” he muttered, kissing Ben again, slowly and sweetly, savouring what he’d almost lost forever. 

“Your stupid Mountie,” Ben sniffed and gave Ray a watery smile when their lips eventually parted. 

“He can be taught,” Ray teased softly with a grin, “Would’ve chased you to the North Pole if I had to.”

Letting out a breathy laugh of relief, Ben smiled at him, “Of that, Ray Kowalski, I no longer have any doubt.” 

****

“Love, genuine passionate love, was his for the first time.”

Jack London

The Call of the Wild

****

**Epilogue**

**Fort McPherson - July 1900**

Ray leaned over, his hands braced on the smooth broad chest beneath him, as he panted and shuddered with pleasure. Ben's hands slid up his back as he rolled his hips languidly and then back down to grip his ass firmly and tug him closer, pulling a gasp from Ray’s parted lips. 

Feeling Ben shift beneath him, he opened his eyes and gazed down at the man making love to him. Ray smiled, deliberately keeping the roll of his hips glacial and leisurely. He loved the way Ben bit his lower lip and could hardly bear to keep his eyes open, squeezing them shut as though overcome with sensation Ray inflicted upon him. Feeling warm and light, Ray lost himself in the gentle rhythm and gasped whenever Ben tried to thrust deeper or pick up the pace. The feel of Ben’s cock buried deep inside him sent a wave of pleasure rippling through him every time Ben thrust up. Ray could tell as his pleasure grew, Ben was rapidly losing any semblance of control. 

"Look at me, Ben," he breathed. "You know you want to," he teased, knowing that the moment Ben did he would come undone. He kissed him deeply, sliding his tongue in and out of Ben's mouth, pressing against his hot wet tongue, moaning into it before pulling back. "Come on, Ben, I got you." 

Whining, Ben finally opened his eyes and gazed intensely up at Ray. His pupils were blown and his cheeks flushed a ruddier shade as his strong hands gripped Ray's hips more tightly. He bent his legs at the knee behind Ray and thrust his hips up with more strength.

"That's it," Ray encouraged with a lazy smile, feeling a trickle of sweat run down his spine, heat building in his groin as he deliberately squeezed Ben inside him. 

"God, Ray!" Ben uttered breathlessly. He sat up and kissed him hotly, arms wrapping around him as he twisted their bodies and rolled Ray onto his back. As Ray wrapped his legs about his waist, Ben pinned Ray beneath him and began to thrust harder, kissing and biting his neck and shoulder. He moaned with growing ecstasy.

"Yes, Ben, just like that, God yes, don't stop… please don't stop!" Ray begged wantonly as Ben finally took control and fucked him into the mattress the way Ray loved. He didn't stop until Ray shouted out his release, clinging to Ben's sweat-slick back with Ben not far behind, coming with a gasp and Ray's name like a prayer on his lips. 

Happy to bask in the warm after glow, Ray playfully slapped Ben's ass. "You're going to be late," he grinned at the hard but playful nip of his throat. 

Ben mock-glared down at him and raised an eyebrow. "You are incorrigible."

"You love me anyway," Ray laughed. 

Shaking his head and kissing Ray sweetly, Ben got out of bed grumbling about having to pay and pay after inviting an American to share his bed. 

Ray wiped away the mess he'd made on his stomach with a towel. Watching Ben wash up, he made sure Ben noticed the lust in his eyes, and grinned when Ben blushed. He loved that Ben still blushed when he caught Ray appreciating his body, even now. 

Ben was dressed in his uniform far too quickly for Ray's liking and he leaned over Ray to give him one more kiss. "At least pretend you're going to put some clothes on today, Ray."

"It's summer, Ben. Besides, I got to give you incentive to come home."

Reluctantly pulling away, Ben placed his Stetson firmly on his head. "You will be the death of me, Ray Kowalski."

"Yeah, but can you think of a better way to go?"

Ben just shook his head with a grin. "I'll see you later. Remember to fix the sled."

"Yeah, yeah. Remember to eat breakfast when you get to work. A hungry Mountie is a grumpy Mountie." 

"And whose fault is that, hm?" 

Ray waggled his eyebrows and grinned up at Ben's fond exasperation. "Didn't hear you complaining at the time."

"Next time I'll just have to eat you," Ben's voice dropped a whole sexy octave that would easily get Ray hard again if they had the time, and he stole another quick kiss. 

"Oh, I am all up for that." Ray deliberately licked and then bit his lower lip. "But you are going to be so late," he teased. 

Obviously flustered, Ben reluctantly pulled away with a pout and an exaggerated sigh that Ray didn't believe for a second. "You, Ray Kowalski, are a cruel tease. See if I sleep with you tonight, you'll be sorry." With another fast kiss and a warm smile, Ben was out the door.

Ray flopped back on the comfortable mattress and let out a contented sigh. It was still early, and he'd earned a nap. Waking up before a Mountie in order to fuck him senseless before work took effort and forethought, and success always warranted a nap. 

He pulled himself out of bed some time later to feed the dogs, strip the bedding and wash it. He hung it up on the washing line that Ben had strung up between the cabin and the woodshed. It was the height of summer and the warm breeze would air the laundry out nicely. 

With his basic chores done. Ray went to fix the sled which had a snapped runner. At least that had happened towards the end of winter near the cabin and not when Ben had been out on patrol. The alternative didn't bear thinking about. 

He worked quickly, letting the dogs out to frolic around him as he did so. When he'd done all he could that day, he played with them a while before getting them settled and heading inside to work on his book. 

The window in front of his desk overlooked a vast, green expanse of mountains and woodland in the distance. In summer the Northwest Territories blossomed with colour and life and it was equally as beautiful as the stark white snow that covered everything in the winter. 

The extremes of weather still took some getting used to, but Ray could truly say he was at peace up here with Ben. He had space to write, they weren't far from the small local town, and thanks to Ben's reputation -- and that of his father -- they were respected. No comments were ever made to their faces about their relationship. They were still invited to potlucks and their neighbour's dinner, and sometimes Ray pulled babysitting duty for Maria's kids in the next cabin out of town. She was married to another Mountie who worked with Ben, so Ray was always happy to lend a hand. 

The best part was this, though: their cabin, filled with their memories of the past year. Ray felt at peace and enjoyed having his own space almost as much as he loved having Ben around after work. Before work, in between work. He chuckled to himself as he sat at his desk. Ben might have called him incorrigible, but Ben was the one with the secret insatiable side -- though it wasn't quite so secret anymore. Ray didn't admit it aloud but he loved that Ben couldn't keep his hands, his mouth, or his tongue off him. Not sleep with him, indeed -- as if Ben would last the night, he smirked to himself. Even if Ray did tease him about being the horny one, Ben could still make his knees go weak with a kiss or a particularly heated look.

Finishing his coffee, Ray put on his glasses and began typing. Ben would be home soon and he wanted to get a chapter done before he was impossibly distracted by a handful of Mountie. 

****

When Ben came home a few hours later, Ray was sprawled on their bench on the porch at the front of the cabin reading a book. He smiled when he saw Ben walk up and took the moment to openly admire him in that fetching new brown uniform of his. His smile widened when Ben paused, carefully removed Ray's glasses and hummed into a tender kiss that promised much more later on, before he replaced them and disappeared into the cabin. Ray called after him. "Tea is made. Did you get the post?" 

"Yes, Ray, it's on the table."

It wasn't urgent and Ray knew Ben would bring it outside with him anyway, so he just waited and returned to his book. 

Sure enough, Ben reappeared and sat beside Ray, placing a cup of tea on the table next to him. "You have a telegram from your mother, they seem to have made their own claim down in Alaska. Buck Frobisher sends his regards and this arrived," he held up a package and grinned at Ray. 

"My book? It's here!" Ray took it excitedly and tore into the packaging. He revealed the hardback book inside emblazoned with the detailed line drawing of a mountainous wild land and a lone wolf, and caressed its cover reverently. "I can hardly believe it. It's done, I got published." He looked up to find Ben beaming at him. 

"I knew you would, Ray. I'm proud of you." 

Ray felt a swell of pride in his chest and turned so he could lay his head in Ben's lap. "This is greatness." 

"May I?" 

Feeling somewhat shy at Ben's request despite him having helped proofread parts of it, Ray gave a small nod and let Ben take the book. 

Opening the book Ben let out a soft gasp. "Oh, Ray…" 

"Read it to me," Ray smiled up at him fondly, loving the way those blue eyes had softened and shimmered with emotion. 

"Dedicated to B. Fraser," Ben's breathing hitched as he continued. "My true North." Gazing down, clearly touched beyond words, Ben pressed a lingering kiss to Ray's smile. "Thank you, love."

His heart light and buoyant with joy, skipped a beat, and Ray took hold of Ben's hand. "You never read the end. Would you read it for me now? I would love to hear it in your voice, Ben." 

Kissing Ray sweetly again, Ben nodded, his eyes shining with love for him that Ray would never tire of seeing in his beautiful blue eyes. 

"Of course, Ray." Placing the book on Ray's chest so he could turn the pages and keep hold of Ray's hand, Ben cleared his throat and began to read. 

Ray closed his eyes and squeezed Ben's hand, affectionately stroking his thumb over the warm skin as he let Ben’s smooth voice flow over him like waves upon a shore. 

"Throughout our modern age, man's search for gold and fortune has been a journey fraught with suffering, death, and disappointment. Yet, the search goes on, calling out to men's hearts, lighting a fire in their souls that cannot be silenced and we ask ourselves why. 

In the Yukon, amidst the vastly unsullied wilds of Canada, as of yet largely untouched by man's hand or presence, a man can become lost forever if he does not keep his wits about him, or his eye on the prize: the gold at the end of a long arduous journey. Many who come here to this brutal, unforgiving yet breathtakingly beautiful land, rarely find gold, and again we ask ourselves why? 

Why come at all? Why search for something so precious it is as though we are reaching for the forbidden fruit of Eden?

I answer you this; when you have seen the sun refusing to set below a horizon or have been plunged into perpetual night. When you have seen the snow cover the land and turn all to white so that wherever you look, wherever you go, you feel like you are walking in the sky. When you have seen the moose or the caribou so large and uncaring of the presence of man, or witnessed the white wolf howling hauntingly at the stars bathed in green and gold, seeming so close you can almost touch them; you find something far more precious than gold. 

You find the joy of living in your very soul. 

So search for that gold and reach as high as you can. For if you are as fortunate as I, you will also find your heart and a home at the top of the world."

****

There’s gold, and it’s haunting and haunting;

It’s luring me on as of old;

Yet it isn’t the gold that I’m wanting

So much as just finding the gold.

It’s the great, big, broad land ’way up yonder,

It’s the forests where silence has lease;

It’s the beauty that thrills me with wonder,

It’s the stillness that fills me with peace.

**Robert Service - The Spell of the Yukon**

  
  
  
  
  


  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Dawson City and the Klondike gold rush
> 
> [ https://www.lib.washington.edu/specialcollections/collections/exhibits/klondike/case1112 ](https://www.lib.washington.edu/specialcollections/collections/exhibits/klondike/case1112)
> 
> The Klondike Nugget where Ray works was a real newspaper based in Dawson City in 1898 covering mining political and social events - An american view of Canadian life and politics
> 
> Skagway was a lawless town run by Soapy smith and his band of thieves in 1898 
> 
> [ https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soapy_Smith ](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Soapy_Smith)
> 
> In January 1898 Northwest Mounted Police established their headquarters in the boomtown of Dawson City under the direction of Sam Steele and patrolled out across the Yukon Territory, creating a network of thirty-three posts. He was noted for his hard line with the hundreds of unruly and independent-minded prospectors, many of them American. To help control the situation, he established the rule that no one would be allowed to enter the Yukon without a ton of goods to support themselves, thus preventing the entry of desperate and potentially unruly speculators and adventurers.
> 
> [ https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/north-west-mounted-police ](https://www.thecanadianencyclopedia.ca/en/article/north-west-mounted-police)
> 
> Chief Isaac was the well-known chief of the Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in (Han) during the Klondike Goldrush of 1896 that resulted in the influx of thousands to their homeland. The Tr’ondëk Hwëch’in or People of the River is a small first nations group at Dawson City, Yukon at the confluence of the Klondike and Yukon Rivers.
> 
> [ http://chiefisaac.com/family_stories.html#The_Goldrush ](http://chiefisaac.com/family_stories.html#The_Goldrush)
> 
> Moosehide slide
> 
> [ https://yukoninfo.com/moose-hide-slide/ ](https://yukoninfo.com/moose-hide-slide/)
> 
> Henry David Thoreau was an American naturalist, essayist, poet, and philosopher.
> 
> Brass compass inspiration -  [ https://www.ebay.com/itm/Thoreaus-Go-Confidently-Quote-Engraved-Brass-Compass-With-Stamped-Leather-Case-/254367438332 ](https://www.ebay.com/itm/Thoreaus-Go-Confidently-Quote-Engraved-Brass-Compass-With-Stamped-Leather-Case-/254367438332)
> 
> The different routes to travel to Dawson City during the gold rush. Ray and his family took the Canadian (purple) route. 
> 
> [ https://www.nps.gov/klgo/learn/nature/gold.htm ](https://www.nps.gov/klgo/learn/nature/gold.htm)
> 
> Another gold mine was discovered in Nome Alaska in 1899 and prospectors left Dawson City to seek their fortune once more.
> 
> [ https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nome_Gold_Rush ](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/Nome_Gold_Rush)
> 
> Building of the Railway to link Skagway and Whitehorse in 1898 
> 
> [ https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Pass_and_Yukon_Route ](https://en.m.wikipedia.org/wiki/White_Pass_and_Yukon_Route)
> 
> ****  
>  SLANG USED IN 1890s
> 
> Cutty-eyed - looked at suspiciously  
>  Mad as hops - excitable  
>  No-account - worthless  
>  Guttersnipe- homeless child  
>  Shut pan - shut your mouth  
>  Gussied up - dressed smart (gussy - an effeminate man)  
>  Big bugs- important people  
>  Bad eggs - bad people  
>  Mudsill - uneducated working class  
>  Varmints - wild animal/objectionable people  
>  Ornery- mean  
>  Fixed my flint - settled my matter/issue  
>  Land sakes - For God’s/Lord’s sake (profanity)  
>  Sam Hill - the devil (profanity)  
> 


End file.
